Bill Maher concluded his HBO show Real Time Friday night by reflecting on the funeral for Rep. John Lewis with three presidents, and turned his fire on President Trump: “What kind of spectacular prick do you have to be that everyone’s last request is ‘Make sure that a–hole isn’t at my funeral’?”

That’s a sad thought. So Maher suggested that “maybe if Trump could hear what a eulogy for him would sound like, maybe that would give him some insight into himself, so I prepared a modest example.” He insisted he wasn’t wishing harm on Trump, he just wanted him “someplace where he can’t harm America.”

The comedian unloaded his usual insults about Trump as a father and husband and grudge-holder, that Donald loved so many things: “Money, golf, lawsuits, porn stars, dictators, organized crime, and the 35% of the American people who liked him.” The other 65 percent got “GFY.” Then came the windup.

 

 

BILL MAHER: He once said that the experience of not being in Vietnam taught him the most important lesson of all: That there’s no problem so big you can’t lie your way out of it. And when it came to flouting the law, he was a criminal’s criminal. And intellectually, a midget among giants. A man of few words. About a hundred. Mostly “tremendous,” “disgusting,” “strongly” and “shithole.” 

Donald Trump never met a man he liked – and yet he always suffered fools. You could tell him anything, and he’d believe it. It’s painful to think he could still be with us if only his personal physician wasn’t that lady who believed medicine came from outer space. Donald’s greatest hero, Winston Churchill, said of his own mortality, “I’m ready to meet my maker.  Whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.” Well, God, Trump’s your problem now. 

As for me personally, I guess what I’ll miss most about Don is his dull wit. He was never laughing. And when he made you laugh, it was always unintentional. But as a walking parody of himself, he was a challenge to satirize and made me a better comedian for it. He died as he lived: wearing makeup and lying in front of all of us. So fly free, whiny little bitch, fly free. May you find the peace your Twitter thumbs never could.”

Listening to all this, one might consider how remarkably non-introspective Maher is in this routine. Has Maher been a father? No. A husband? No. A soldier? No. The Playboy Mansion regular was joking about Melania: “Donald always said he knew she was the one the moment he saw her and said those three little words: Add to Cart.”

Does Maher honestly think people couldn’t eulogize him as a mean-spirited, self-adoring “spectacular prick”?