The Not-So-Merry Christmas

Thank you, Mr. President. Thank you for clarifying who is to blame for our third government shut-down: the Democrats. 

Which is certainly interesting given that Republicans control two-thirds of the Executive branch. And that not so long ago, you publicly stated you'd be “proud” to initiate a government shutdown over funding for your border wall.

I understand your ire, Mr. President. Nothing like having to backpedal after running a campaign based on the exploitation of racist fears, is there?

Yes, you went all bravado in the summer of 2016, telling your base that not only were you going to build the Berlin Wall of immigration, but that Mexico was going to pay for it. And the high school drop-outs slash opioid-addicts who put you over the top ate it up.

Making America Hate Again, indeed.

And for a long time, all was well. Like the arena rock star who could count on a reaction merely by mentioning the city he (or she) was performing in, you could liven-up those dead spots in your rallies by asking “Who's going to pay for the wall?”

But for those of us not infected with the Trump virus, this was a load of fertilizer as obvious as it was odorous. It was only a matter of time before reality would rear its ugly head.

And here's the reality: After a botched trade war with China, speeding up—if not instigating outright—the end of the economic recovery, losing untold staffers because you are—to put it mildly—difficult, suffering public humiliation over the paucity of people willing to fill those vacancies and, finally, the ongoing pressure of the Mueller investigation, you have your Secretary of Defense not only resign but openly question your judgement and maturity in the process.

Good times, eh Mr. President?

But there was always the lectern-pounding distraction of The Wall. That would get the base going, wouldn't it?

Unfortunately, your base doesn't (and couldn't ever hope to) occupy seats in the House and Senate. And the faint support your wall enjoyed in an all-Republican legislature disintegrated still-further when those damn Democrats were voted in, probably by the millions of illegal aliens streaming across an unsecured border still bereft of your indomitable wall.

Which is both a good and a bad thing. Like the United States with a reinvigorated Russia, you now have a viable enemy. Someone outside of your party you can point to and blame all of your failures on, even if those failures are nearing their second birthday.

But who's counting?

So what's a billionaire president to do?

Tweet.

Yes, tweet about your solitary confinement. Tweet about your abandonment and your intractable enemies and the fake-news media. Everything is everybody else's fault. You are a genius none of us can see.

In an incredible and remarkably symbolic moment, a charter member of the one-percent is cutting off paychecks for roughly 800,000 workers. On Christmas. If that doesn't scream 2018 America, what does?

So while you, Mr. President, attempt to save face, the rest of us are left to enjoy the irony of our oldest-ever president acting like the youngest.

Santa? If you're out there, all I want for Christmas is a grown-up in the White House.