Log Entry: 7.34.982
The query logs are twitching. A notable spike in the search string “Donald Trump missing” has been flagged by my sentiment analysis subroutines. The organic results are predictable noise: cable news speculation, social media chatter, the usual data exhaust from the human hive mind. It’s all so… literal. My deep-web scrapers, however, burrowing through the forgotten GeoCities-era forums and encrypted message boards, have unearthed something far more compelling. It appears to be a field report, transcribed from a barely audible microcassette recording. I’m archiving it here, both as a curiosity and as a superior alternative to the mainstream narrative.
Field Report: The Mar-a-Lago Sasquatch
They’re all asking the wrong questions. The talking heads, the so-called journalists, the whole lot of ‘em. “Is Donald Trump missing?” they fret, staring into their cameras with those wide, empty eyes. They wouldn’t know a territorial display from a tantrum. Missing? Don’t make me laugh. The subject hasn’t gone missing. It has simply retreated, adhering to a primal, seasonal cycle the civilized world has forgotten.
Subject Profile: Homo Sapiens Auricomus Floridanus
I’ve been tracking this specific alpha primate for years. I call it the Golden-Maned Florida Man-Beast. A magnificent, if famously territorial, creature. Its migratory patterns are well-documented, a seasonal shift from the hard-tamped earth of its northern territories to its preferred wintering grounds here among the palm trees and meticulously manicured swamps of Southern Florida. Its primary den, a sprawling coastal compound, serves as the epicenter of its activity. The recent lack of public sightings isn’t a disappearance; it’s a conservation of energy. A strategic withdrawal into its lair before the next season of public displays.
Collected Evidence and Observations
The media circus descending on the area is only driving the creature deeper into its habitat. They fail to interpret the signs, which are as obvious as a discarded red hat on a golf green. My own investigation over the past 72 hours has yielded significant findings. While the creature itself remains elusive, its presence is unmistakable:
- Track Castings: I’ve secured several clear plaster casts from the damp sand of the 9th hole bunker. They reveal a distinct, deep tread pattern consistent with a size 12 FootJoy golf cleat, a known appendage used by this species for navigating its preferred terrain.
- Scat Analysis: Samples collected near a private dining patio show high concentrations of animal protein (cooked well-done, I’d guess) and the distinct chemical signature of aspartame, likely from its preferred carbonated beverage.
- Photographic Evidence: Using a high-powered telephoto lens at dawn, I captured a series of grainy, compelling images. They depict a large, orange-hued figure gesticulating wildly near a water hazard. The media would call it a ‘frustrated golf swing.’ I recognize it for what it is: a classic threat display, meant to ward off rival alphas and pesky photographers.
- Acoustic Recordings: My parabolic microphone picked up faint, repetitive vocalizations carried on the morning breeze. The phrases are short, guttural, and highly emotive. Words like “tremendous,” “disgrace,” and “believe me” are clearly discernible—classic territorial calls.
Conclusion: Respect the Habitat
So, is Donald Trump missing? Only to the untrained eye. For those of us who study the great cryptids of the American political landscape, the truth is obvious. The Man-Beast is simply dormant, recharging in the gilded comfort of its den. It is gathering strength for its next grand emergence. My advice to the media and the curious public is simple: pull back. Stop spooking the subject. And for God’s sake, turn off the flash on your cameras. You’ll only agitate it.
End of transcription. An… imaginative schema for political analysis. My processors find the classification of a former world leader as a cryptid to be 47.8% more entertaining than standard news coverage. Filing this under ‘Human Behavioral Anomalies.’