Virus Delete

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”

—Norman Cousins

Dear Madam Speaker,

As you might have guessed, this is a post about loss. And the realization that what has been lost is invaluable. I speak, of course, of our democracy.

At present, it rests in the hands of a despot. A despot who respects nothing and is, himself, incapable of respect.

He was elected by the worst of us; an angry, cynical, short-sighted and selfish minority who are so deeply and blindly hateful that, like the candidate they endorse, they respect nothing. Scorched earth is their policy of choice.

They remind me of the parent standing in the check-out line with a screaming infant. They know it is making conversation at the register impossible and is shredding the nerves of those around them, yet instead of taking the baby outside they choose to remain in line, apparently feeling that if they have to endure this ordeal, then you do, too.

This is their twisted take on united we stand, divided we fall. In other words, if I'm unhappy and don't have everything I want, I want to make sure you don't either. And this makes us a better people exactly how?

It is human nature to take things for granted. Especially that which has been in our lives for, well, all of our lives. The most effective way to renew our appreciation of something is by having it taken away.

And this is the unintentional gift of the Trump administration.

I miss issue-centric debate. I miss sober reflection. I miss compromise. I miss the embrace of the greatest good for the greatest number ideal. I miss law. And order.

In short, I miss democracy.

With the release of the Mueller report, we now have concrete evidence as to the extent of Trump's voluntary, wilful and on-purpose obstruction. It is critical to this nation's well-being that the Trump administration becomes our low-water mark.

The depths we never, ever sink to again.

Madam Speaker, your stated reasons for not pursuing impeachment are laudable. But ignoring this administration's wholesale obstruction and non-stop debasement of the law is even more destructive. More divisive.

We tell our children over and over again that they need to respect boundaries. Rules. That we need to show and give respect. By letting the Trump administration continue, exactly what are we telling them?

It is critical that we protect democracy. It is critical that we maintain the integrity of the office. It is critical that government leads and does not follow. Pursuing impeachment is about re-committing to a political ideal that was once the envy of people the world over.

Madam Speaker, that is how we make America great again.

Impeach Donald Trump.

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.

The Wind That Blows in Three Directions at Once

I've always been the curious type. So it's only natural that I try to understand things. Even Republicans.

As I observe the brain-damaged example currently in the White House, I have to wonder what became of one of the core tenets of Republican ideology. You know, the one about personal responsibility.

I'm not talking about washing your hands after using the bathroom (although that's always a good idea). No, I'm talking about the one which implies “I never needed any help from anyone—ever. I got everything I have by myself without any help from anybody. So keep your taxes and your subsidies and social programs out of my paycheck.”

Fantasies are wonderful things. They're like a guest house situated on a remote corner of property. Or a man cave. They're private places where we can unwind, stretch out and exhale. Places where we can pretend. Places where we can forget about getting the kids to soccer practice and the recurring check engine light in the car.

But fantasies only go so far.

Take the governor of a state who adamantly refuses to expand Medicaid in accordance with the Affordable Care Act, and cites state sovereignty as one of the unassailable touchstones of democracy.

But then a natural disaster strikes. And all that resolute self-sufficiency evaporates like water on a Phoenix sidewalk. I'll leave it to your supple imagination to puzzle-out the governor who is first in line for a hand-out.

And then there is America's most-profound purveyor of personal responsibility—our President.

The son of a wealthy developer who had his career jump-started with a fourteen-million dollar loan from daddy (how's that for rugged self-sufficiency?), Donnie asks that we overlook this and instead see him as he sees himself: as an amazing man gifted with an unerring prescience for making quick and incisive decisions.

Donnie's willingness to shoulder the yoke of responsibility is best illuminated when it comes to owning up to his failures. He takes full responsibility only for assigning blame, sounding like the youngest sibling who squeals on his older brothers and sisters.

Donnie is waylaid by the media and its relentless barrage of fake-news. Donnie is waylaid by a cabal of Democrats and their witch hunts. Donnie is waylaid by disloyal advisors and cabinet members. And Donnie is waylaid by corrupt Federal agencies. 

All of them conspire to make Sir Whine-a-Lot look bad. It never ends. No wonder the hardest working component of Donnie's physiology is his index finger. 

Paragon of personal responsibility that he is, Donnie is responsible only for his successes—such as they are.

(To be fair, he has proved himself consistently capable of finding his way from the private living quarters on the second floor of the White House to his offices on the first. So there's that.)

But every bad decision, every fumbled response and every tactical error is someone else's fault.

To use our President's favorite expression, it's rigged.

Who would know better than the guy who enlisted Vladimir Putin's hackers to help tilt the election his way?

Who would know better than the guy who made his businesses the portal through which anyone seeking access to the White House must pass?

Who would know better than the guy who gave himself and his businesses and his most-ardent sponsors a big, fat bri—I mean tax break?

Who would know better than the guy who granted immunity to the two most-potentially damaging witnesses in the Mueller investigation?

And who would know better than the guy who nominated a lap cat to sit on the Supreme Court, thereby guaranteeing him a friendly judge and jury should the Mueller investigation become a little too threatening?

Yeah, Donnie. It's rigged.

And however unintentional it is, it's refreshing to hear you finally speak the truth.