Ever since l'enfant orange descended the escalator at Trump Tower in 2015, the news-cycle has been full of his name, stories about him and responses to him on an almost daily basis. Now that he has conned his way into the Presidency of the United States, there is an even more intense barrage of Trump this and Trump that which I confess, I am thoroughly sick of.

I would like to start a Trump-free news site, in which his name, his deeds, his lies and his Twitter B.S will never be seen or heard and in which absolutely ordinary news abounds. There is altogether too much of this unworthy man to be had, the media being unable to leave alone that which sustains the beast. Aimee Mann, my favourite vocalist, penned the following song about the new President, before he won. Thanks Aimee.

"Can't You Tell?"

That bastard making fun of me in front of all my peers
Those people think I own this town, you're stripping all my gears
Well guess what Mr. President, I'll be seeing you
In four years

Though on the campaign trail the papers paint me like a clown
Still all I see are crowds who want to fit me for a crown
I point out all my enemies just so my fans
Bring them down

Isn't anybody going to stop me?
I don't want this job
I don't want this job, my god
Can't you tell
I'm unwell

You try to pin me down but you don't really try that hard
I throw out any shit I want and no one trumps that card
So dazzled and distracted by your fantasy
Of Hildegard

Isn't anybody going to stop me?
I don't want this job
I don't want this job, my god
Can't you tell
I'm unwell

You ask about my plan but baby my plan is to win
I wind up all the tops and watch the others keep the spin
You handing me grenades is just compelling me
To pull the pin

Isn't anybody going to stop me?
I don't want this job
I can't do this job, my god
Can't you tell
I'm unwell

And here's a live version

www.youtube.com/watch?v=CI6AGfwdrGQ