Saints, as you say your prayers tonight, please set aside one for poor, put-upon rube, Sean Billingsworth Spicer, who today had to claim that the President of the United States intentionally tweeted a typo nonsense word and that that nonsense word had a secret meaning.
Advertisement – Continue Reading Below
As you kneel beside your bed, with your duvetvet covfefe turned down, toss one up for the spokesman for a man who seems to struggle with, well, speech.
If, perhaps, you just woke up from a commama, you should know that at midnight on Wednesday morning the president got his nightly case of Twitterfingers (this is different from his morning case of RevengeThumbs, by the way). He wrote and published the following tweet:
We’ve all had typopos and most assumed he would delete it and finish whatever fantastical bedtime story he was spinning. But the tweet remained for hours. And, like the Baltimore Colts packing up and leaving for Indianapolis under the cover of darkness, the world changed overnight.
By dawn Covfefe the Meme had been born, grown up, gone to college and moved in with Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy in a Florida bungalow to enjoy its sunset years. It was either the zenith or nadir of internet culture, depending on your opinion about the decaycay of communication. In any case, the funny woman in Accounting is probably popping by your cubiclele (they don’t all work) with some quality covfefe content right now. But by tomorrow, it will be a distant internet memory.
Or at least that’s what was supposed to happen if long-suffering fabulist Sean Spicer hadn’t stood in front of a room full of journalists and claimed that the president and a small group of people know what covfefe means.
Was he kidding? Maybe. But the new season of House of Cards did just come out so it’s just as likely that he was feeling his conspiratorial oats. Either way, the world’s fastest meme rose from the ashes like Jean GreyGrey, the Phoenix.
Are people in the White House just wandering around whispering nonsense to each other with the confidence of a young Hermione Granger?
Now we’re in the post-post-covfefe world. Is every typo a joke? Is every joke serious?
Why are politicians trying comedy? Why are comedians trying beheading? Who do I speak to about getting a champagne popsicle? Is this press covfefe too negative? What time is the climate-related apocalypse? I’m trying to schedule a manicure and one last trip to the breakfast buffet. Oh, excuse me: breakfast buffetfet.
Follow R. Eric Thomas on Twitter.