If a guy saves you from a bear attack, you don't stand over your bleeding shins and lectursplain to him about his crappy tweets from 2016.

You say "Thank you."

And I'm PROUD to THANK Donald smacking J. Trump for this.

But to you, modern liberal, rot of all societies, our "Thank You" is the real tragedy here, because it means the "Bad Man" got a nice gold star. Utter narrative buggerery that rains diarrhea on your carefully curated, elitist worldview.

So, while you're busy writing a 14-part thread about how our celebrations are "uninformed" or "dangerous for the global narrative," we are celebrating because we see a light at the end of a very long, very dark, very hungry tunnel.

We don't give a SINGLE FLYING bugger about being tweetshamed by some prick in a Brooklyn loft. We're worried about not dying in the bowels of El Helicoide. Google that, coño e' tu madre.

So take your "nuance", put it inside a pineapple and shove the whole thing up your ass. We are allowed to be happy that our dictator is going to wear an orange jumpsuit, even if the guy helping us do it makes your therapist rich.