Minneapolis and Greenland

Protesters in New York

They are all narcotized with power—all of Trump’s enablers. You saw that in their lying canned responses to the Minneapolis killing of an innocent woman. Trump is never going to stop his lies. When asked by the New York Times if there were any limits on his global powers, Trump said: “Yeah, there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.” He meant, I think, his own mortality, a typical verbal confusion for him. And of course he has no morality.

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The Importance of Trump 1

Finally, unless I croak, Trumpworld Begins should be published in a couple of weeks. There have been problems, naturally. The book consists of blog posts, from the period 2016 to 2018, that clearly show the chaos unfolding as the participants fumbled their way through Trump 1. As characters in this earlier drama they are almost, but not quite, as batty and inept as those in our contemporary cast. Continue reading “The Importance of Trump 1”

There Are No Words

The actions of this administration and its leader often leave us open-mouthed and tongue-tied. Trying to categorize what’s going on we use defective, inaccurate, fuzzy words like fascism, conservatism, liberal. Yes, we resort to clichés. We argue. What does “liberal” mean anymore? The imprecision is not just in the political context. Abstract and broad concept words tend to become not only ambiguous and diverse; they vary with the user’s understanding, background and purpose. Continue reading “There Are No Words”

Live Evil

No, I don’t mean the old Black Sabbath album. It’s what came to mind as a short take on Trump’s transfiguration from the bumbling dodo of the first term to the crazed sociopath we deal with today. Black Sabbath’s music was a pretense, a masquerade for the masses. Trump and his crew are all too real. Continue reading “Live Evil”

Waking Up

It’s been barely a month since I began my hiatus from the blog, and I feel like Rip Van Winkle. You know that story—Rip sleeps twenty years through the American Revolution and wakes to find everything changed. I took time off in hopes of getting a handle on the daily mutations enacted by our delusional President. Now my metaphorical twenty years have passed, and every day brings forth a new monstrosity. I may go back to sleep. Continue reading “Waking Up”