Trump, the Enormous Man, Should Fill You With Great Unease
- john raymond
- Sep 28, 2025
- 3 min read
Most commentary on President Trump still treats each outrage as an isolated episode—something to be debated, fact-checked, or “contextualised.” That is a mistake.
The only honest way to see him is holistically. When you do, the appropriate feeling is not rage or hope but unease: the visceral recognition that you are watching a human-shaped being act with the mechanical ruthlessness of a heartless and cruel machine.
Part I: What Unease Really Is
Unease is not the same as outrage. Outrage is hot; it locks you into your opponent’s game. Unease is cold; it is the body’s warning that something looks human but is not behaving like a human. It is the shiver you feel when a mask slips, when an imitation falters, when the pattern reveals itself.
Psychologists call this reaction the uncanny—a term from Freud’s 1919 essay Das Unheimliche, later used by robotics theorist Masahiro Mori to describe the uncanny valley: the discomfort when something appears almost human but not quite right.
And that is what you should feel when you watch Trump’s latest enormity—his lies, his cruelty, his feral attacks on truth. He resembles a man but he moves like a mindless machine.
Part II: From the Uncanny to the Enormous
Trump’s enormity is not size; it is scale of pattern. For decades he has:
Delighted in public humiliation and cruelty.
Lied without hesitation or limit.
Surrounded himself with other rapists, men like Jeffrey Epstein.
Oversaw a world of child rape, blackmail, and secrecy.
Each of these items is documented. Each is shocking. Together they form a grotesque continuity—an inhuman code running over and over.
This is why you should feel the uncanny: you are not looking at a normal human who might “pivot” or “grow,” but at a machine executing a programme of malice.
Part III: The Spider and the Robot
Think of a spider moving across glass. Its body is organic, but its hydraulics are alien; the movement is jerky, automatic, inevitable.
That is the sensation you should get of watching or listening to Trump.
The shape is human, but the motion is mechanical. His “pivots” are not changes of heart but recalibrations for the next strike. Like a malfunctioning robot or a Pinocchio of power, he cannot stop attacking, consuming, and destroying. Why? Because it is the only code he runs.
Part IV: The Rule of Totality
This leads to a simple rule: until Trump changes in all areas, he has changed in none. Machines do not reform; they only execute.
Each new “softening,” each new “outreach,” each new “presidential moment” is camouflage for the next attack. And to judge him by isolated gestures is to misread the entire machine.
Part V: How to See Him Clearly
For men and women of conscience, the Epstein’s files cannot be thought of as an abstraction. They must be remembered as a record of inhuman cruelty: young girls trafficked then raped, their lives destroyed. And power was then bought with their fear and silence.
When we look at Trump, we must see a man who moved in this hidden world, a man who continues to act with the dark-triad traits of narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy. And we have to see him for the human-shaped robot that he is, one operating without soul or conscience.
Recognizing this does not require a court verdict about every act. It requires only pattern recognition, moral clarity, and the courage to call what we see by its rightful name: inhuman.
So Embrace the Unease
Trump, the enormous man, should fill you with great unease. Not the hot flare of anger, not the naïve glimmer of hope, but the cold recognition that you are watching a grotesque machine masquerading as a man.
Only unease pierces the facade. Only unease tells you that you are looking not at a leader capable of change, but at an enormity—a human-shaped ghoul driven to attack, lash out, consume, and ultimately destroy.
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