JD Vance’s rise through Trump’s unpredictable orbit

Dear JD Vance,

Well done on becoming the second-most powerful man in the United States. Well, that’s not strictly true. Not even close. Then again, the truth is anathema to the Republican Party.

However, come inauguration day 2025, you’ll be a heartbeat away from the presidency. How exhilarating that will be. And terrifying. Mostly terrifying. For us, anyway.

To be honest, when I saw you for the first time wearing what looked suspiciously like something from Maybelline’s summer range of liquid eyeliner, I thought that would’ve ended Donald Trump’s chances.

I mean, the good ol’ boys of the Deep South aren’t exactly mad about men who wear makeup, are they? I like it, though. Brings out those crazy, deep-set eyes.

Your masculinity is beyond doubt. After all, you were in the Marines. Then again, you did only serve as a military journalist. Is this when you first learnt the art of asking no questions and telling lots of lies?

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Or did that only come when Trump took you under his wing?

During your four years in the military, your rose to the rank of corporal. Well done. That’s further than I got in the army.

You haven’t been seen much since the election results were announced. Is it because your boss has a new best friend and you’re at home sulking? That’s okay.

Elon Musk is hard to compete with. And it’s even harder for someone like you to make friends. You seem to have a special knack for upsetting people.

A couple of years ago, you complained that the US was being run by Democrats, corporate oligarchs and “childless cat ladies”. Everyone knows ladies are meant to have children, not cats.

And yet there are similarities. Women, like cats, constantly groom themselves. Even though most women use modern technology for this, there are some in Krugersdorp who freshen up the old way by licking their hands and rubbing their faces.

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Cats and women alike tend to hiss and spit and use their claws when the dog comes home late and is unsteady on his feet. Both have high-pitched, plaintive voices and will sit on your lap if they want something.

When women wee, they crouch, like cats, and if they see you watching them, they leap up and go running skittishly through the garden.

So you’re a staunch Catholic and yet only have three children. What went wrong? Did you switch to cats? Your wife, Usha Chilukuri – who I admit was about as unexpected as the eyeliner – is of Indian heritage.

I come from Durban and I have seen Indian families with battalions of children. I would have expected you and Usha to have at least 90 children. You come from the Rust Belt’s finest hillbilly stock and should have sperm like tigerfish. There is no excuse.

In January, Usha will become the second lady of the United States. As you are aware, her only role will be to bear your children and help you with your makeup. I hope you have her firmly in hand. As a practising Hindu, she will want to decorate your new home with statues of Shiva and Ganesh and all sorts of multihued avatars and deities.

You don’t want to scare the neighbours, my friend. This is Washington DC, not Bumfu*k, Ohio.

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A couple of months ago, you said that illegal immigrants from Haiti were eating people’s cats and dogs. Trump loved that one and happily repeated it.

You then promoted another allegation that African refugees were eating cats in Dayton, Ohio. Seems like a good opportunity to cash in.

Get the wife to write a recipe book for immigrants.

101 Ways to Cook a Cat. Under a pseudonym, obviously. One of the kids could do the illustrations.

Three weeks ago, your favourability rating stood at 42.6%. Strangely, that was my matric average and it earned me a beating from my father, who insisted I repay 12 years’ of wasted school fees. Do you deserve a beating, JD? Probably.

In 2016, you called Trump “reprehensible”. Being unfamiliar with words of five syllables, he most likely thought you were complimenting him.

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Then again, you did also call him “America’s Hitler”. He may well have taken that as a compliment, too. Why else would he have chosen you as his running mate?

I don’t mean to minimise your contribution, but I think Kamala Harris did more than you to get Trump over the line.

I think that’s partly the reason your boss is ignoring you. Let’s face it, you are pretty weird.

Being of Scots-Irish descent, you are highly unpredictable and ready for a fight at any time of day or night.

If Trump doesn’t dump you for Musk, get him to give you the nuke codes. He can’t be trusted with them. Nor can you, but at least you won’t bomb a country for making fun of your hair. Probably.

So you wrote a book once? Yeah, me too. A bunch of them. Anyone read yours? Yeah, mine neither.

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Anyway, comrade. I’m looking forward to you sinking those white trash roots into that fertile Washington swamp and putting your best face forward.

Just make sure the eyeliner’s not smudged.