By Taki Theodoracopulos
Taki's Magazine
December 26, 2025
Christmas is a merry time up here in the Alps, but this year it was merrier because of something I read. I assume you've all heard of Keir Starmer, the British prime minister who is addressed as Sir Keir because the Brits are old hands at handing out titles in order to impress foreigners, innocents, and especially Americans. Impressing people with silly titles comes naturally to people with bad teeth and worse weather. They hang a title to a simple country lawyer such as Starmer-titles are also for sale to the rich and famous-and those poor unsuspecting Yanks think they're old-world aristocracy. Never mind. The only ones who fall for this bull are gossip writers and social climbers, neither species employed by Takimag, and certainly not part of our esteemed readership.
What amused me went as follows: Sir Keir was being grilled by some horror woman about The Donald's behavior, and Keir affirmed in his best stentorian voice that he would never speak to a woman, his wife, or a colleague in the way Trump spoke to a female journalist. That's when my ears perked up. Left-wing American female journalists are not only a dime a dozen, some are also rather homely, promiscuous, lying, envious, bitter, and hateful of men. "Would you allow for someone to speak to your daughter, your wife, your colleagues in the way that Trump spoke to a female journalist?" asked a harridan. Had I been Starmer, I would have answered that no daughter, wife, or colleague of mine would have interrupted the President of the United States in the first place, and would not have asked a loaded question about Epstein whose answer was obvious.
"No wonder The Donald called her piggy."
No wonder The Donald called her piggy. Reporters covering The Donald are desperate to make a name for themselves by getting him to lose his temper or insult them. They become the leading headline in the evening news. Such are the joys of the left-wing media in America. It used to be very, very different. Eisenhower, Kennedy, and LBJ were treated with great respect during press conferences. Then it started to go downhill with President Nixon and Watergate. Now it's a free-for-all by lowlife reporters trying to make the headlines by getting into the Trump hair, no pun intended.
Of course, misogyny came up and remained on center stage. The Brit prime minister immediately folded by admitting misogyny was everywhere at Westminster, but how we got to rainy London, a very crowded place with lawyers and con artists, from The Donald's Air Force One is a mystery to this poor little Greek boy. Personally I've never called a woman piggy, but if one watches any TV commercial about food, there are more piggies-male and female-featured in them than there are stars in heaven. Misogyny, needless to say, is the sine qua non of every female reporter, editor, or commentator in the land of the triple burger with fries. Stuck for an angle in a nonstory, press the misogyny button and there's a headline in the making. Get caught in having invented a news story, press the misogyny button that now resembles the 7th Cavalry in a John Wayne Western. Get fired for incompetence and lack of talent, it was misogyny, pure and simple.
But enough of shrews and harpies. This is Christmas, and once upon a time there lived a man called Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart who does not belong with the geniuses like Beethoven, Haydn, and Schubert because he was a miracle. As some of you who do not watch TV must know, little Wolfie wrote his first symphony at 8 years of age. The other evening I happened to be listening to a Mozart program and heard the 8-year-old's symphony for the first time. Had I not been told by the speaker, I would have never guessed it wasn't a later work by the greatest Austrian ever. Then I stayed tuned to the greatest opera ever, again by Wolfie, Don Giovanni. That's when piggy came back to mind. Once Donna Elvira finally realizes that the Don is a womanizer par excellence, and that she will never be able to tame him or keep him for herself, she sings the beautiful aria regretting having met him and telling the world how she has suffered and how much she hates him. But after each rondo Elvira sings out how she would take him back the second he beckoned. Aha, I said to myself, if only the piggy on The Donald's Air Force One had a brain, she might be hating Trump because she secretly wants him.
Piggy will probably sue me if she reads this, but she really should listen to Donna Elvira. Actually it was a Venetian Jew who wrote all this, Lorenzo Da Ponte, a brilliant librettist who ended his life in Brooklyn teaching Italian. He and Mozart collaborated in all his operas. As everyone Christian knows, damnation is real, and Don Giovanni was given the chance to repent and save his soul but refused it, and down he went. But he sure had a good time while alive. He was the last alpha male, pun intended. A merry Christmas to all of you.
This article was originally published on Taki's Magazine.