Author: BC

To adequately address the multiple fronts of insidious chaos this Administration initiates one must triage events and establish a working order of which outbursts portend the most injury to the national interest. With trade wars ready to explode, and the President now firmly backed by the GOP to pursue repressing those who investigated his seditious corruption, both our economic vitality and pluralist political process face imminent peril. Add to those crises new UN data that clarifies Trumpism’s militant inaction on climate change as an existential threat to life on the planet, while moving up the time table on our doom significantly, and one is slapped silly by a trifecta of self-inflicted hazards. Two and a half years in we’re no longer shooting ourselves in the foot, the barrel now rests firmly at our temple.

Listening to Trump hold forth on any subject produces anxious nausea if you are brighter than he is, and/or not addled by either obsessive bigotry or greed. He still believes tariffs are a cash cow for the US Treasury, and clean coal is actually a niche ore mined for its pristine burning properties… nuff said. It has been conveyed by those who have worked in the West Wing that catching the President’s attention requires a hook of either the sensational or ugly innuendo, facts are tedious and risk losing him completely to the relentless distraction he suffers.

Apparently, bundist Stephen Miller and doomsday John Bolton have mastered the art. When it comes to pushing Trump’s buttons and focusing his most visceral nastiness, Miller is the Iago of Pennsylvania Ave, understanding the invading hordes from the south, or fiendish Persians to the east will reliably snap the President into momentary cognizance, edicts and tweet storms at the ready. And as if ending American democracy and precipitating economic as well as ecological ruin is not enough, we now must ready for ICE unleashed and war with Iran, Miller and Bolton’s twin preoccupations.

New revelations suggest what really got head of Homeland Security Kirsten Nielsen canned was her opposition to a massive 10-city Gestapo-like ICE sweep of thousands of immigrants ruled deportable. Miller’s brainchild, and vigorously supported by Trump, the operation would have surely gone off as ugly as it sounded, with ICE squads kicking down doors and rounding up families like the vermin Trump and the ghoulish Eichmann wannabe believe they are. Nielsen, and the President’s previous selection to head immigration enforcement, Ronald Vitiello, together challenged the plan, seeing it for the half-baked and chaotically authoritarian horror it represents. And while their opposition seems to have succeeded in at least postponing the madness, it earned both the boot, as Trump confirmed afterward, intoning about new plans to “go in a tougher direction.” Purges are Miller’s love language, and a West Wing awash in Apprentice pettiness and sycophancy can’t help but reward those who slither most efficiently.

In Europe our allies no longer attempt to make nice, viewing us now as far more problem than solution. Nothing proves them more prescient than our haste to pick a war with Iran. While Trump was feting a regressive Hungarian strongman previous Administrations distanced themselves from with praise he only provides “tough” leaders, who always seem to disdain the democracies which empowered them, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo was stopping by Brussels to crash an EU planning session.

European Foreign Ministers have not held back criticism of Trump’s abrupt trashing of the exhaustively crafted US-Iran nuclear deal. Lately, Pompeo’s mission has been to kick things up a notch or two, making clear not only are all options on the table when it comes to Iran, but force now takes up far more space than diplomacy. Pompeo’s sorry position speech last year inferred most anything less than a surrender of sovereignty was not going to satisfy this White House, with the goals of the abandoned nuclear pact downgraded to just a couple of items on Washington’s ever expanding list of grievances. Linkage, nihilist style.

Both the Saudis and Israel would love America to commit blood and treasure to weakening their principal competition for regional hegemony. To which Trump’s reply is simple… how high?! In Brussels nobody appeared psyched to meet with our chief diplomat, understanding clearly Pompeo’s messaging was a one-trick pony express… we’re taking names of those not sufficiently aboard our war wagon! War with Iran is our prerogative, yours is to support with enthusiasm, and pay more for the privilege! European Foreign Ministers are far from inclined to oblige. England’s Jeremy Hunt actually created equivalence between America and Iran while expressing fears of escalating tensions both parties have heightened.

Of course Trump is to lessening tensions what cigarette smoking is to emphysema, and his recent statements have been especially unhelpful. The Saudis declared yesterday the damage two of their tankers and a Norwegian freighter recently sustained near the Persian Gulf was “an act of sabotage,” but wisely refrained from speculating on suspects, they knew who to rely on for that. Wisdom being a notably foreign concept to our President, he enflamed as usual, threatening it will “be a bad problem for Iran if something happens, I can tell you that.” One can only expect the worse when Iran’s rhetoric proves no match to a US President’s for militancy. Frederica Mogherini, the EU’s chief diplomat, reluctantly agreed to a last minute meeting with Pompeo and emerged unimpressed, cautioning both parties to exhibit “maximum restraint.”

Between unprecedented US pressure on allies to abide newly tightened sanctions against Iran, and the overt distrust Europe now understandably displays as Trumpian sabers rattle louder by the day, it’s near certain NATO won’t survive a unilateral US attack in the Persian Gulf. Of course Trump et al will shed few tears about that outcome, and the GOP makes it less mistakable on the hour they will fall in line behind any outrage the Administration entertains; thus, a cataclysmic war with Iran is quickly becoming a more when than if proposition.

Added to the menu of other waterfalls this White House strokes mindlessly toward, a full reckoning appears assured. The fervent hope used to be we could survive our worst civic failure with a benign mulligan, a valuable lesson we could absorb and use to do better next time, spared the worst consequences of our screw up. Trump and the GOP are having none of that, like Glenn Close’s unhinged character in Fatal Attraction, they aren’t about to be ignored, and electing a Fox/AM nihilist will prove to be anything but an innocuous dalliance. We are going to have to fight like hell to break this thing off…. and it’s going to be harrowing. Allowing the tea pot to whistle unattended will surely ruin us. BC

“We must not be misled by left-wing incompetent news media that, day after day, feed us a diet of fantasy telling us we are bigots, racists and hate-mongers.”

George Wallace

“Bigotry is a disease of the mind – a poisonous infection unbounded by age time or space. It is transmissible, capable of being passed down from elders to child, from community to community, from racial and religious kin to racial and religious kin.”

Colbert King

Perhaps the most damaging falsehood we accepted as part of 21st century conventional wisdom was that far more of white America emerged from the Civil Rights battles of the 60s shamed and morally chagrined than actually did. We predicated the foundations of our national story, and future societal aspirations on the notion an overwhelming white majority was shamed into understanding how wrong it was to abide institutional racism. At the very least, we assumed, most really believed the law needed to be applied equally or the hypocrisy would simply be too ugly to look past, too blatant to permit other political goals to move forward in its shadow. It now appears certain we were mistaken.

Worse, in according so many the benefit of the doubt they neither deserved or really cared to receive, we established a false complacency that simply ticked away through the years as they added up cumulative grievance they would either go to their grave possessing or unleash if the opportunity presented itself. That day came in November of 2016, and decades of unrequited bigotry and resentment has come spewing forth unabated, indeed fully amplified by the POTUS and the GOP.

On every front we thought had been decided there is now what amounts to open efforts at nullification. Voter suppression, outrageous and unprosecuted police misconduct, a plethora of discrimination initiatives pursued under the sham of religious freedom, “self defense” statutes to protect those who outright murder minorities they are scared silly of, housing discrimination, business disenfranchisement, the list goes on and on. Moreover, there is more than enough flat out racism, no longer hidden in the shadows, or even dog whistled in ugly code words, to match the surge in institutional bigotry.

Trump as a symptom or Trump as the cause and effect; it probably doesn’t matter much. The pivotal question is does this reflect the dying gasp of a couple of generations who stewed at the kitchen table but kept their mouths shut in public, acceding to the dictates of “political correctness” until they were liberated by the ugliest Presidential campaign in modern American history? Or is this a malignancy that has spread throughout and afflicts, not just the sons and daughters of Wallace partisans, but grandkids as well? Is Trump the death throes of our wretched past, or the hideous specter of our dysfunctional future? Is he merely the walking dead spouting vile ignorance and nastiness that won’t survive him, or is he injecting future generations with virulence that will addle their plans and aspirations?

Regardless of the answer to that critical question, the accoutrements surrounding this massive out-of-the-closet movement are all very familiar. Pushing back the boundaries of what constitutes bigotry has always been a racist preoccupation, as has creating the false equivalence necessary to debate what should already be established. Trumpism is all about both of those regressive pursuits. Trump’s smothering embrace of law enforcement is more wedge strategy than anything else. When his wretched core thinks of who a cop’s natural enemy is they have only one skin color in mind. Ditto when the President drones on about our ICE heroes. And when the unrepentant draft evader wraps himself in the blood and sacrifice of America’s service people, there is nothing coy about the subtext. That hate crimes skyrocket in every host area after a Trump rally provides all the clarity one requires about both message and audience.

Of course the internet provides the coarsest and most direct evidence of the liberated legions of white intolerance. I long ago moved past my shock and dismay at the memes old friends felt comfortable sending out under their tag. Awful stuff leaving little to the imagination, usually tied together by a nasty intonation underlining the us vs. them thesis that runs throughout Trumpism. Most worrisome about the internet is its grasp of our youth’s attention, and potential to shape their perspective. Daily evidence of inane yet frightening examples of groups of teens exhibiting Bundist tendencies speaks to the fragility of America’s future.

Years ago I was playing in an impromptu golf tournament with a friend I thought I knew pretty well. He was a funny guy of quick wit and an enjoyable nature. We were the odd foursome in the group of perhaps 15 after another friend bowed out at the last minute, so only three of us would play together, my friend riding in his cart with a buddy, who he obviously went way back with. As we began playing, and casually conversing on the tee box as we waited to hit, my friend felt unguarded enough to start telling his best n*****r jokes. I was startled and fully unable to do anything other than stare at him awkwardly, suggesting we change the subject. Seizing on my unease, he decided to start ribbing me about my reticence to find humor in racist abasement, which his pal seemed to enjoy. Still feeling some level of shame I didn’t initially call him to task, I viewed his prodding as a new opportunity to assert decency into the situation and told him I found no humor in such idiocy and to STFU about it. The rest of our round was tense and unenjoyable. Moreover, our once thriving friendship deteriorated afterward, which I have zero regrets about.

The point here is threefold. One, anybody who would like to wager their 401K on how my former friend voted in 2016 please contact me. Two, is there any mystery what kind of narrative he listened to around the dinner table growing up? Finally, this was close to 20 years ago, and we both had very young children. I don’t have much doubt what his children heard while eating their supper about America’s first black President, who, back when their comedian father was performing his impromptu routine, was still an unfathomable scenario. And remember, this all takes place in swanky, ever-more-liberal Northern Virginia, not the Deep South or flyover country.

Many of us were naive in believing that part of America’s national identity is a collective ability to learn from the lessons our mistakes teach us and move on. That proposition is being sorely tested at this moment. Trumpism is regressive in all of its elements, but none more so than its ceaseless embrace of ugly racial sensibilities once thought dead and buried. There is a building panic in America that unvaccinated children are going to create a resurgence of childhood diseases we thought were whipped. If only that same manic vigilance was on hand to protect our kids from the ugly bigotry we once assumed they’d never have to ponder. BC

In college I was lucky enough to study journalism under some great professors. Second to none was Don Murray, a Santa Claus look alike with experience and wisdom to spare, and he was not stingy sharing it. A Pulitzer Prize winner, he dispensed lessons in a conversational manner, encouraging both participation and the ideas it produced. I continue to be amazed by how prescient he was by raising topics that at the time seemed ancillary and not particularly relevant.

One day he brought up exactly such a subject out of the blue, asking us what we thought of all the burgeoning sources of news and information cable was providing. To a person the answers were much the same… it was an absolute good, a boost for democracy and the fourth estate that undergirds it. More sources meant more access to information and truth. As Mitch McConnell announced on the Senate floor yesterday… case closed. It bears noting that this was a class of serious students, some headed to highly successful careers as reporters. Jackie McMullen, for example, is now a preeminent sports opinion writer and ESPN regular; we were a focused group. Anyway, upon hearing our version of groupthink, Professor Murray begged to differ and posited his reservations about cable’s explosion onto the market place of news gathering. Information and truth are a democracy’s most valuable commodities; perhaps the manner they are gathered and distributed should be elite and rigorously protected, lest they are taken for granted and devalued. I remember receiving his insight with a slight nod of affirmation and acceding that his point made sense; yet I continued to be underwhelmed by the topic’s importance and soon enough we were on to something else.

Truth in America has never been cheaper, and the President of the United States works feverishly to further lessen its standing. Don Murray was spot on in his concerns, and the US citizenry is engaged in a cold civil war as a result. One cable creation owns most of the responsibility for this…. Fox News of course.

From its first day on the air Fox has aimed to abase the best practices of American journalism and cloud the very idea of truth as the foundation for news gathering. The audacious lie it put forth from the start – that almost the entirety of American journalism is biased and corrupt – has gestated and been fully digested by millions, eventually spreading like an unchecked cancer to infect the foundations of our national life…. and the aorta of our civic heartbeat.

Fox News is a totalitarian entity, that is it always has to be moving forward and intensifying its behavior. From oddly distasteful to more relentlessly misinformed to shrilly partisan and now rabidly reckless, the Fox snowball must keep rolling down the mountain; the nihilist zealots its diehard viewer base has become won’t permit any pauses. Nor, it seems, will its first American President.

Yesterday, the New York Times came out with devastating news; it had received 10 years of Trump tax returns, dating back to the 80s, and the truth about his business acumen that hard numbers reveal. At the very time he had a bestseller out cultivating the fiction he was a self-made business prodigy, Trump was in the process of losing over a billion dollars, much of it money from his father, Fred Trump. The data can’t lie because Trump himself provided it, and its findings are clear….everything Trump touched failed miserably, often leaving banks and investors – and his father – on the losing end. According to the NYT, the Donald wasn’t simply a bad businessman, he was literally one of the worst businessmen. How bad was he? The article notes that in “….multiple years he appears to have lost more money than nearly any other individual taxpayer.” Now that’s failing bigly! Fred Trump seems to have endlessly indulged his manic son’s desire to buy enterprises and ruin them, most prominently Eastern Airlines shuttle for $365 million and the Taj Mahal and other Atlantic City casino properties to the tune of $800 million. It’s not hyperbole to say simply everything Trump headed up went south in a hurry. More than hapless, far worse than incompetent… disastrously horrible.

In a sane and modestly vibrant democratic entity these revelations would constitute a death knell. After all, the Donald is really nothing if not the self-made business titan prepared to foist common sense on a nation gridlocked by gray scale indecisiveness. Ask any of his wretched core what most appeals to them about Trump and they will surely cite the fiction he has nurtured from day one as a business success, now fully destroyed by raw data. But of course we know this isn’t it for the President, not even close. Instead of a decisive blow to a congenital liar, a critical nexus in his public disgrace, yesterday’s scoop is but another example of the cautionary tale Professor Murray worried about near 40 years ago, when truth began to lose its value.

The President’s twitter feed always accurately indicates how concerned he is about a particular topic. So his near immediate multi-frame gibberish attacking the article’s veracity betrays it struck a nerve. It’s worth reciting in full because it provides such a sterling sample of the crisis at hand:

“Real estate developers in the 1980’s & 1990’s, more than 30 years ago, were entitled to massive write offs and depreciation which would, if one was actively building, show losses and tax losses in almost all cases. Much was non monetary. Sometimes considered “tax shelter…you would get it by building, or even buying. You always wanted to show losses for tax purposes….almost all real estate developers did – and often re-negotiate with banks, it was sport. Additionally, the very old information put out is a highly inaccurate Fake News hit job.”

What’s stunning is Trump’s unabashed willingness to admit criminal dishonesty in service to protecting the lie of his business acumen. Of course, it’s doubtful he has to worry about either with regard to his wretched core, who won’t entertain the revelations as anything other than MSM lies… just another attempt to destroy their duly elected President. Fox/AM will both bury the story and attack it with the same presumptions. And the GOP? How will it respond to more overwhelming evidence that the POTUS elected under its banner is a colossal liar and fraud? Clown question. “Hot off the presses!…” sure ain’t what it used to be.

The codependency of Trump and Fox/AM has one primary target…truth. This President lies without thought; he is the autonomic nervous system of deceit. Fox/AM now has no brand other than as Trump’s primary support structure; its consumers will accept nothing else. Virtually nothing from either entity is honest or in good faith; that’s where we are. Make no mistake, the well being of truth, and the willingness of the US public to appreciate it, will mirror our nation’s survival as a going democratic concern. Right now we have three main groups: those in thrall of lies; those cognizant and respectful of the truth; and those who don’t care either way, and despise the entire issue, demanding only to be left alone. A society indifferent to truth or its revelation deserves what comes its way….. and, tragically it seems, that’s surely what’s heading toward us. BC

The Kentucky Derby has been a primary obsession of mine for 30 years now. Ever since, on a May afternoon in 1989, every bit as wet and dreary as yesterday, I agonized before betting my remaining $58 on a single exacta box of Sunday Silence and Easy Goer, Derby glory has taken up way too much space in my closet of ambitions. Every year it begins as a dull ache in February with an initial set of prep races meant to identify candidates with the potential to shine in May, perhaps a prodigy to get on early with a future bet at big odds. By early April the field has been winnowed to perhaps 30-35 horses; a final series of 1 1/8 mile races eliminates the remaining pretenders.

A week out from the first Saturday in May true Louisville zealots can think of little else, as final workouts are scrutinized to identify “now” horses with a fondness for Churchill Downs. Friday night before the race is always more exciting and anticipatory than any Christmas Eve I ever experienced. Derby day is a frenzy of gambling, with one of the best undercards of the year. Few things can equate with a major score before the main event, bestowing “house” money to play with for Derby bets, relieving the pressure of losing mortgage funds and freeing one to swing for the fences. As “My Old Kentucky Home” plays at the Twin Spires, the post parade provides a final chance to assess one’s selections. Are their ears pricked? On their toes? Washed out? The anticipation becomes almost unbearable.

When the gates spring open it is electric, a cavalry charge to the first turn, a critical phase that may not determine the winner, but always sweeps away at least several losers. Watching the Derby in a crowded public forum is a chaotic and confusing experience. The din of the crowd makes hearing the race call impossible, and with 20 horses, it’s more the norm to lose track of your candidates than the exception. Turning for home usually identifies the eventual winner as invigorated contenders separate from struggling pretenders. Running the classic distance of a mile and a quarter for 3-year old colts is like climbing above 28,000 feet on Mt. Everest, either the physiology is there or it isn’t. Genetics surge to the fore with cruel abruptness. Yet and still, few things compare to confirmation that, as they pass the final pole, your horse or, better yet, horses, are prospering and will factor in the decision. The adrenaline such a realization produces can lift a truck, or more aptly, deafen those around you. In just a couple clicks more than two minutes it is all over, sometimes producing ecstasy beyond measure, far more often quiet disappointment and recrimination that, despite all the study, all the analysis, you missed what now seems so patently obvious. And then, like every real horse player knows, it’s time to move on to the “get out” race, the next card, the next meet, the next year. Life can indeed orbit around the Kentucky sun.

Few people in the world know more about the Kentucky Derby since 1988 than I do. That’s not braggadocio; it’s simply the truth. A favorite parlor trick of mine is to ask who I seek to impress to name any year between 1988 and the present. When they do so I quickly rattle off every relevant fact about that Derby renewal like a savant, plus a special personal anecdote to accentuate the experience. It’s not hyperbole to say I could talk all day about my Derby highs and lows. Is there a book in there? I suppose. But really it’s simply the life and times of a breed heading toward extinction… the hardcore handicapper.

Anybody serious about the Kentucky Derby hates rain. It renders the most rigorous of analysis near worthless, tossing the outcome to fuzzy intangibles like hoof sizes and niche pedigrees, freaky race flows and lucky paths that form in the mire. For the last three years the heavens have been penal toward those of us transfixed by the greatest two-minutes in life. Yesterday was particularly harsh as reports of certain and near continuous rain like last year proved inaccurate until about an hour before race time. At just the moment it appeared disaster had been skirted, the skies opened up and made up for the delay with a deluge that transformed a fast track to a bog within minutes.

In 2009 I loved a horse called Dunkirk, and was very confident he would pay off handsomely. Trained by Todd Pletcher, a preeminent force in the sport, Dunkirk was coming into the race the right way, with a pedigree and versatile running style that would serve him well at the classic distance. But rain intervened. As the minutes ticked closer to post time my confidence ebbed, along with my enthusiasm. He seemed disinterested in the post parade, appearing disdainful of the gloppy footing. As I stood in line to bet, already certain it would be far less than I budgeted for, I made a decision I am still exceedingly proud of… I stepped out of line and went to get another beer. If Dunkirk won, more power to him, but nothing felt right and, except for a couple exactas bet earlier, I was just going to enjoy the race. Of course, had Dunkirk jogged and paid near $20 to win, I’m sure I would have looked for a stool and short rope…. but that’s not what happened.

If a poll had been taken that week of which entrant could be thrown out with no second thoughts, Mine That Bird would have prevailed in a landslide. New Mexico-based, he got into the field only because of a brave finish at monster odds in a graded two-year old race. In fact, he was the perfect example of what eventually motivated an overhaul of the entire Derby qualification process. He didn’t belong and shouldn’t have been there. But there he was, and after the first call was so far detached from the field you simply had to take race caller Tom Durkin’s word he was actually still running. His jockey, Calvin Borel, a Churchill Downs fixture, who had won the roses on Street Sense in 2007, was aptly nicknamed Calvin Bo-Rail for his penchant of saving ground with his mounts. At the second call it seemed he could save all of Kentucky and still not win, so hopelessly behind was Mine That Bird.

At the halfway point it was anybody’s race, except it seemed Mine That Bird’s. But then Calvin got busy! Hugging the rail like paint, he began to pass tired ones on the far turn, building momentum on a path improbably free of pedestrians. Up front, as they turned for home, Pioneer Of The Nile, the betting favorite, seemingly took control of the race. Yet suddenly, along the Churchill fence, a mystery horse swept by everybody into the clear, fully separating himself from the field. Durkin, a Hall of Fame race caller, stuttered and fumbled trying to identify the animal now drawing away by widening lengths. By the time Durkin figured it out, the race was a rout, Mine That Bird winning by almost seven lengths at more than 50-1. A flustered Durkin called it an “impossible result.” Dunkirk checked in toward the rear, confirming my wisdom, and reinforcing my belief that rain changes everything and creates lottery conditions.

Ten years to the hour after Mine That Bird’s shocker, Hall of Fame trainer Bill Mott struggled for the right words when asked how his first Derby win felt. After all, Country House, elevated to victory after Maximum Security suffered the first disqualification in 145 run for the roses, wasn’t even his first stringer; Tacitus, the second choice at post time, was who Mott’s binoculars were surely fixed on. Country House was parked out at post 20, and at 65-1 was near every bit the throw out Mine That Bird had been a decade earlier. Mott was gracious as he could be, appreciating the victory, but understandably offering reticence for “backing in” to the winner’s circle. One can imagine him later, alone with his emotions, perhaps weeping a bit that his sport’s holy grail finally fell to him for all the wrong reasons. Great men don’t settle for technicalities, nor appreciate an asterisk.

There is no doubt Maximum Security deserved to come down, his transgression was severe, surely distorting the race’s outcome. Upon video review, it seems near miraculous he didn’t clip heels with War of Will and cause a catastrophic incident that would have further wounded a sport already reeling from too many tragedies. One can only imagine the carnage caused if the lead group of horses had gone down in a field of that size. Disqualifying him was the only call to make. However, that doesn’t make it any easier to digest for those who were winners and ready to cash….. until they weren’t. Of course, I have plenty of tales to tell about being “brought down” while in possession of a previously winning ticket. The pain is excruciating, the frustration extreme. Now it’s part of Derby lore. Another running. Another tale to tell. And of course there’s always next year. BC

Few could ask for more responsive constituent service than those Democratic St. Louis County Executive Steve Stenger bent over backwards to represent. Trouble is there really were just a few of them, the ones who wrote his campaign big checks and expected results. Stenger did not disappoint. A multi-layer indictment accuses Stenger of enthusiastically offering pay-to-play access for the right price. Since prosecutors pointed out the “fairly voluminous” nature of the evidence collected, a guilty plea seems assured. Meanwhile, average citizens can take at least a sliver of solace that Stenger was actually charged with depriving them of “honest services” as a result of his corrupt schemes.

Of course Missourians are no stranger to organized graft by their politicians. After all, the “show me” state hosted the juggernaut machine of Tom Pendergast back in the first half of the last century, which gave Harry Truman his start in politics, and at its apex was as influential as any operation in US history. Just the same, in an era of unrivaled cynicism toward public servants, it’s particularly unhelpful to discover the overt shenanigans of Stenger, and the seeming nonchalant shrugs of Democrats more interested in replacing him than owning his crimes.

An old and dear friend of mine migrated to the St. Louis area some 30 years ago and considers it home. A thoughtful man, he embodies many of the electorate, inclined to civic participation and concerned about his community and the nation but, with three college-aged kids, including a beautiful daughter who just moved past a serious cancer scare, the distractions are daunting. Yet and still, the long list of Stenger’s offenses angers him and reinforces bitter indifference to a process that seems to produce sludge from both sides. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

In October of 2014, as Stenger was campaigning for office, Missouri businessman Joseph Rallo was not a happy camper. Despite making donations to assorted campaigns, Rallo was getting no bang for his buck. Stenger promised that would change so long as Rallo made quarterly $2500 donations to his campaign’s “trustee program.” Whether it was county insurance contracts, or sweetheart pricing for purchases of land tracts orchestrated by a Stenger appointee, Rallo got plenty of play for his pay.

Stenger seems to have been indefatigable in his desire to deliver for his patrons, and expected his staff to execute his graft, which didn’t sit well with some of them. Those who didn’t cooperate Stenger sought to remove or strong arm. This may have contributed to his downfall as evidence suggests cooperation by one or more members of his inner circle with prosecutors. Regardless, Stenger never took his eye off the ball, and his war chest, which totaled as much as $4.4 million, indicates plenty felt the investment worth the trouble. Even as things were falling apart, and Rallo was being asked specific questions by reporters about irregularities he was a part of, Stenger insisted if he just keep his mouth shut things would blow over once re-election was secured. Arrogance and delusion go hand in hand; Stenger clearly had plenty to spare of both.

America is now under siege by a White House so dishonest and corrupt its only metric for whether or not behavior is out of bounds is whether a slam dunk criminal case can be made against it. Ten thousand lies by the President clarify an attitude geared to the lowest common denominator. Fox/AM, the messaging braintrust Trump and his GOP collaborators rely on to inform base supporters has created a narrative fully focused on the equivalence necessary to normalize such subterranean standards. To do this it is constantly looking for outrageous acts of Democratic corruption wherever they can be found to strengthen the fallback proposition that Trumpism is no worse than anything it replaces. Sorry scoundrels like Steven Stenger provide invaluable aid and comfort to that quest.

I have the deepest respect for my Missouri buddy; he is a man with many qualities I seek to emulate. That he is not more full throated in his disdain for what most in his state now accept and support has disappointed me, particularly since his lovely wife immigrated here from South America. But I know he cares, and after a long day of work and all of his other responsibilities devotes more than a passing thought to where things stand, both locally and nationally. In the battle for the soul of our republic, good men like him should enjoy some degree of certainty as to where they need to be in protecting the well being of those they love. The Steve Stengers complicate that task, strengthening the cynicism required to simply declare “WTF…. everybody does it.” That’s music to Trump and his nihilists. Just like my buddy, we all deserve better and can’t afford to tolerate less. BC

News is by definition uncovering and presenting the truth. Any operation that purports to be a news service that is not guided by and fully beholden to truth is merely a propaganda outfit. The crisis in any society is defined by the degree such organizations penetrate the cognitions of its populace and the resources available to enhance such influence. Under this criteria, America’s situation is dire and worsening by the day.

The evolution of Fox/AM’s omnipresence in the US has directly mirrored the decline of our governance and the social chasms in our culture. What started as a niche project the GOP figured it could use effectively to turn out its base, has morphed into an army of white walkers, a mass of ugly resentment we presumed enlightenment had slain, resuscitated by technology’s ability to constantly deliver increasingly dark and regressive messaging. What began as a servant to the will of the Republican Party has consolidated its fringes and consumed the middle, creating a nihilist wrecking ball bent on obviating all the hard fought lessons our mistakes have taught us.

The destructive synergy now on display each hour between the President and Fox/AM seems to have caught our vaunted checks and balances paradigm unawares and currently has it by the short hairs. More than 20 Democratic Presidential hopefuls appear content to tip toe around perhaps the gravest threat ever to confront American pluralism – and world peace and security for that matter – as if walking into some strange dark house, searching for a light switch.

Perhaps nobody personifies the progression of Fox/AM’s regression better than Maria Bartiromo. Over a 25- year career, which started at CNN and flourished at CNBC, Bartiromo meticulously developed a brand that gradually eclipsed the early sexist emphasis on her good looks. Cool and confident, Bartiromo paid her dues to become much more than “money honey” as she delivered the Dow’s shifting fortunes on her daily “Closing Bell” segment. Staunch dedication to no-nonsense reporting, and a direct interview style, eventually earned her Emmy award-winning credibility and near eminence gris status among business broadcast journalists. From eye candy to business news fixture accurately summed her career arc until 2013 when Roger Ailes offered her the big bucks to enter his Fox fold.

At the time, Bartiromo was at the top of her game at CNBC, but appeared enamored by Fox’s larger viewership. Ailes made it clear she could write her own ticket and cross over to hard news if she wished. Whether Bartiromo deluded herself into believing she would be permitted distance between Fox’s shit river and her own reporting, or if she ever much cared is unclear, but the indisputable results were on display yesterday at the southern border near El Paso, the site of her latest iteration of “live reporting,” as well as a “call in” interview with the President.

Trump, as with all of his Fox interviews, was confident enough in its tone and tenor to herald it with a tweet inviting the wretched core to “enjoy.” Bartiromo didn’t disappoint him once he got through, breathlessly reporting she had seen three groups illegally cross and get apprehended that very morning! Trump took her entre and began to ramble. They’re coming because the economy is so great, Trump cackled. Previous immigration policies are “disasters” which everyone before him was fine with, Bartiromo nodding furiously in agreement. Then the President returned to where wishful thinkers on both sides of the aisle hoped he had left for good….family separation.

A particular Trump skill is an innate understanding of the American public’s short attention span and its fervent desire to soften the edges of anything morally abhorrent to lessen collective shame; the family separation outrages fit perfectly into that unfortunate tendency. False equivalence is key to this tactic, and neither Fox/AM or the President ever hesitate to lie when creating it. With Bartiromo providing free rein, he revised facts on the ground that so outraged most of America just months ago. Close to incoherent, Trump falsely implied that both the Bush and Obama administrations pursued the policy, while making clear how effective a deterrent he thought it was:

“When they used to separate the children, which was done during the Obama administration, with Bush, with us, with everybody, far fewer people would come…. And we’ve been on a humane basis it was pretty bad…. we go out and stop the separations. The problem is you have ten times as many people coming up with their families. It’s like Disneyland now.”

Parsing Trump gibberish is almost always a fool’s errand. But here it produces telling insights into where he and Stephen Miller, the White House’s de facto head of immigration policy, want to return. They were actually reformers when they stopped tearing children away from their parents in response to an outpouring of public disgust. Sure it was the “humane” thing to do, but look where it got us. We gave it a shot, but it may be time to get tough again! Who can blame us?!

Any vestiges of past newsroom gravitas from hard hitting interviews with business titans like Jack Welch or Warren Buffet were but a faded twinkle as Bartiromo near constantly tried to sneak a gratuitous affirmation somewhere into Trump’s non-stop diatribe. She couldn’t agree enough with everything the President dispensed, whether it was the outrageous contention Central American immigrants are making the journey to get “50 years worth” of welfare and other freebies, or ICE agents are the real victims of any persecution. Bartiromo was no longer anything resembling a journalist; she was just another incarnation of Lou Dobbs . Everything she presumably had spent more than two decades building was gone, lost in the incoherent droning of our first Fox/AM Chief Executive. In fact, the whole exercise seemed like nothing more than a staged Trump 2020 production, an increasingly common trait of Fox coverage. Whatever one wanted to call the farce, it wasn’t journalism.

It’s very clear from real news reporting from the West Wing, and Trump’s own ramblings, another round of family separation is coming soon. Bartiromo’s complete cooperation Sunday made clear Fox/AM will devote all its resources to removing any fuzzy sentimentality the wretched core may have toward children’s petulant desires to stay with their families. As for the rest of America? They’ll get the fallback narrative, the outright lie that past administrations carried out the same policy and the mainstream media simply didn’t care then; they only do now because they hate Trump.

How will Americans with consciences digest the new round of moral disgrace? Trump et al are betting time and other distractions – and the strident propaganda of Maria Bartiromo – will dilute the bitter taste of national shame this time around. If they are right, it will be yet another wrung in the ladder of our ruin. Pray they aren’t. BC

Politico reports big money GOP donors, who sat out 2016 because they thought it a lost cause, are now “all in” to re-elect Trump in 2020. Word is the New York nihilist has “won over” big hitters with a steady stream of policies they never thought possible. It’s all about delivering relief, whether it be taxes, regulatory or markets, the moron they couldn’t abide has become the POTUS they can’t live without. It’s “a no brainer” said one Texas oil man, ready to add zeros to his contributions as needed… whatever gets it done.

The other day the President took care to let constituents know their concerns were a top priority, albeit through their children at the annual White House Easter egg roll. No matter the audience, Trump’s message for 2020 is coming into focus: the throttle is in full reverse, America is moving backwards faster than a golf cart with an alligator in front of it. The only thing government needs to be regulating is uteruses and my enemy list. What we don’t understand, we are getting rid of. Simple enough.

Other people’s money has always been a principle Trump desire. Those who really know him understand nothing will satisfy the President more than to tally the growth of his campaign coffers. Handing the millions over to consultants and messaging professionals will be rejected out of hand by Trump, preferring instead to simply hold stream-of-consciousness rallies and take to Twitter. If professionals are going to get campaign funds it will be lawyers necessary to handle the multitude of legal issues Trump amasses daily; it’s an expense he has learned to tolerate, the cost of being a compulsive liar with no shame and a guiding rule that all contracts are breakable. In other words, he’ll spend their money how he feels like it, and will surely pursue ways to pocket as much as possible for himself…. that’s simply how he rolls. So now Trump’s consumption of the GOP is total; it is his to completely abase, with it’s A-list donors now excited to pay for the privilege of ruin.

The wretched core, the 35% floor of Trump support responsible for the existential threat our system now faces, is broken up into three main tranches. First are the racists and xenophobes preoccupied with overt bigotry toward primarily Muslims and Hispanics, and ever more shrill dog whistles directed at blacks and Jews. Next are culture war extremists consisting of evangelicals and pro-life zealots, tied in with anti-LGBT bigots focused on the end days gay marriage symbolizes. Finally there are the Fox/AM consumers, fully informed by that platform and wholly dependent on that narrative. Blended together these forces congeal into a grotesque nihilist cult with no other concern than war against “progressives.” Only the big money identifies its specific interests and acts accordingly. Trump has spent two years bending over backwards to line their pockets and remove obstacles to the naked greed which defines them. They need no more convincing and can live with whatever discomfort his unhinged psychosis creates because the alternative will cost them millions. Thus, Trumpism is now a mob of very nasty radicals financed by an oligarchy unconcerned with anything but their bottom line….. America the beautiful indeed.

Of course 1 percenter interests and those of the wretched core are generally zero-sum, as the tax day pain suffered by many a clueless Trumpie vividly clarified. But typically relentless Fox/AM messaging has provided both groups a tried and true boogie man under their beds…. “socialism!” To hear Tucker Carlson tell it, Bernie, AOC and company are prepared to pounce with a ferocity for centralization that would make Stalin blush. The New Green Deal rivals any 5-Year plan Uncle Joe imposed and will make pitiful kulaks of us all. Equating the fight against climate change with an existential threat to MAGA, it was only a matter of time. Jefferson had his doubts about an enlightened citizenry; the Mark Levin faithful, which includes the POTUS, fully justify his reservations. Meaningful civic debate requires at least a modicum of facts; Trumpism needs only lunacy…. and big checkbooks.

I continue to engage Trumpie friends on Facebook, more to understand their pathology than anything else, and only in response to some moronic meme they share which finds my news feed. Lately, socialism is the primal fear, AOC the villain du jour. An old high school chum shared a meme that ominously declared it’s no longer Democrats vs. the GOP; it’s the fate of the US vs. Socialist Progressivism! I responded back wondering what about socialism had him so worked up? He lashed out that Democrats like me were dangerous, and socialism killed 100 million. “What makes you all think you can make it work this time?!” I inquired whether he really believed AOC’s manifesto equated with the likes of Stalin and Mao? His response, peppered with salty language and a few insults, was unequivocal. Just one of millions.

Pondering the requirements of the totalitarian state he would head, Adolph Hitler mused:

“The leader of genius must have the ability to make different opponents appear as if they belonged to one category”

Nobody in their right mind believes Trump capable of such depth, but sometimes things just unfold the way they do. Historians have argued back and forth about the chicken and egg of Nazi Germany, or any other collective surrender to chaos and destruction. Is it the deft touches of authoritarians that herds sheep to the cliff, or are the sheep actually doing the pushing? Seems likely a mixture of both, one creating the other.

For two years we’ve watched a vigilant Trump assiduously attend to his flock’s frailties, tossing them what he knew they craved and being careful to test the envelope before moving out of an established comfort zone. But now the big bucks are going to start rolling in, and they will come with few preconditions. Throughout his life, without exception, Trump has equated financial backing with free rein. Make no mistake, a second term will be Trump fully unleashed, with no regard for restraint. The frightened man, ashen with dread, as he mouthed a stilted 16-minute inaugural speech that redefined America as a dystopia, will this time strut to the dais ready to ad lib his ruinous megalomaniacal view of MAGA’s future. The wretched core will no doubt praise whatever he bilges as unifying, feeling they “belong in one category,” even as the 1 percent will sigh with satisfaction about the millions they will keep dry. In fact, should that specter actually emerge, we will indeed all become one group, with a common condition, endured by each and every person who ever suffered the whim of Donald Trump…. fully screwed! BC

“From whence shall we expect the approach of danger? Shall some trans-Atlantic military giant step the earth and crush us at a blow? Never. All the armies of Europe and Asia…could not by force take a drink from the Ohio River or make a track on the Blue Ridge in the trial of a thousand years. No, if destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of free men we will live forever or die by suicide.”

Abraham Lincoln

At least four in ten Americans are in the thrall of nihilism. There simply is no better word to describe the malady. They use no context for assessing the world other than hopeless cynicism engendered by a media platform dedicated to nothing else. The problems they see, the fears they constantly experience, the visceral anger they espouse and the bone-deep resentment they feel all emanate from one enemy…. progress, and the cabal who promotes and employs it with nothing but sinister motivation.

This bloc of fellow citizens was long ago overwhelmed by the relentless march forward the basic human inclination to adapt to and better coalesce with our surroundings produced. They are a societal tipping point of a breathless sprint forward by humankind in the 20th and 21st century that, in just several generations, changed more than dozens before it combined. The results have overwhelmed the capacity of many for tolerance, leaving them susceptible to vile and regressive messaging, which advancing technology has rendered proximate at all times. A cottage communications sector, that started simply trying to distinguish itself from the competition and carve out its share of a burgeoning news and information market, has morphed into a massive and nefarious force, dedicated only to continually fomenting the division that has secured it many billions of dollars.

The Republican Party tried in 2010 to manipulate this malevolent tide to its benefit, picking and choosing issues it could tweak to its advantage, the better to expand the base. But after initial success the monster quickly ate its master and in 2016 turned its attention outward. Bill Barr yesterday embodied the carnage we now experience as this mindless Godzilla tramples the essential foundations that gird our system of governance.

More than 45 years ago John Mitchell was educated on the personal ruin tied to mistaking the role of the Attorney General with that of a racketeer. Yesterday, Bill Barr seemed not a bit impressed by those lessons. In fact, he did a soiled President’s bidding with confidence, like a man who understood the race was won, and he had picked the right horse, Elliot Richardson he wasn’t!

The Mueller Report provides extensive documentation of the civic catastrophe suffered from Decision 2016. More than uncovering a near constant disregard for truth, and a casual embrace of illegal actions, it opens a window for a close look at the antithesis of responsible government. The report describes a ship of fools disdainful of any legal constrictions on its compulsive corruption. Over and over again investigators uncover inept schemes, undertaken with full criminal intent, modified only by their incompetence. Time and again ignorance and failure to realize illegal objectives seem to provide sanctuary from further prosecution, as if ineptitude entitles one to clemency. Mueller’s reticence to push his mandate’s envelope and prosecute the inner circle of Trumpism’s malfeasance runs afoul of expectations his partisans adopted, and increasingly leaned on as the President clarified hourly his disinterest in rising to the demands of his office.

The report places emphasis on DOJ legal opinion that the President is protected from indictment and Trump’s refusal to personally meet with investigators for deciding to merely provide facts without action or even any concrete recommendations. Yet and still, the report offers and entirely different picture than Barr has offered both times he was relied on, and the President emerges anything but unscathed and vindicated by the findings.

Barr declared Trump’s “sincere beliefs” more than enough to excuse ten meticulously documented episodes of trying to dismantle a process he previously expressed certainty would end his Presidency. And lost in the hideous muck Trump has dirged about any mention of Russian efforts to interfere in Decision 2016, Barr fully confirmed the entire exercise’s most basic premise: that what the President termed a conspiracy by Democrats to taint him was in fact a concerted foreign attack on US democracy. Even as he declared, in direct conflict with the publication he was summarizing, Trump was vindicated, Barr granted unarguable credibility to the process Trump had always shrilly denounced as a sham. That nobody even thinks to hold Trump accountable on that score punctuates how distracted we have become.

The report describes a campaign team open to uncovering “dirt” on its opponent by any means necessary. Far from ambivalence, team Trump members from George Papadopoulos and Carter Page, to inner circle members such as Donald Trump Jr., Jared Kushner and Paul Manafort exhibited unbridled enthusiasm toward any useful material Russian operatives could provide. Moreover, Mueller’s team clarifies Trump and his braintrust constantly cited, shared and retweeted pure lies conjured by Russian hackers and bots, not merely to tarnish Hillary Clinton, but to caustically divide American voters and weaponize established biases.

We can now be sure, once in office, Trump never subordinated his insecurity and paranoia to the national interest, never seriously considered anything but nurturing a bloc of support at the expense of national unity. From the outset, this Administration was flailing at enemies rather than governing, attacking basic institutions instead of promoting any constructive ideas to encourage consensus. Nothing has been done for any purpose other than to weaken opposition, discredit criticism. Regardless of how safe or precarious the Mueller Report leaves his legal position, no responsive human being can read it and believe Donald Trump has any genuine concern for much beyond machinations that serve to allay his destructive narcissism.

Incredibly, the report implies Trump was saved from himself by subordinates who refused to carry out his directives. White House Counsel Don McGahn was ready to resign rather than dismiss Mueller, and apparently refused to carry out the order. It’s now clear a big job requirement for this White House is a willingness to lie as casually as Trump, whatever the consequences. It seems the reluctance of a number of staffers, like short-timer national security aide KT McFarland, to create emails in line with Trump’s compulsions to create false stories – prominently on display as early as the transition – spared the President from liability.

Throughout all 448 pages of the Mueller Report one is struck by the chaotically unstructured nature of the Trump Administration. The entire operation seems a fully disjointed amalgam of independent operators pursuing anything but the coordination of policy. There is an air of distrust among the principles with nobody seeming sure of what they are doing. Nowhere in any page Trump is featured on is there much other than reproach and recrimination. Toxic is the ideal adjective. From the very beginning these were not happy campers. The last thing one senses from the report is any interest at all in serving the public.

It is a testament to both Trump’s ugly insecurities, as well as his cognizance that Barr’s acclamations do little to absolve him of the many misdeeds other prosecution teams are addressing, that his tweets attacking the Mueller enterprise continue unabated. However, it’s certain Barr’s deceit will be more than enough for the wretched core to embrace with the servile fervor they accord their champion. That stridency, coupled with 24/7 Fox/AM sedition, will create fierce headwinds for Congressional investigators as they bring Mueller to the Hill to add meat to bone. Barr no doubt has reinvigorated jackals like Jordan and Meadows to run interference for Trump. What we are about to see is the next act in our American tragedy, our steady march toward, as Lincoln put it, death by our own hand. One thing we know, and the Mueller Report has crystallized, Trump and the wretched core have no problem with that. BC

In 1997 Bill Clinton was President and I was still getting used to life as married man and the looming enormity of parenthood. Selling fax machines was at its peak, providing a nice living, but cresting before a descent into obsolescence. I still had hair, but my comb was on the same path as fax machines. And if it was early April it meant I was taking Thursday and Friday afternoons off to watch the Masters, sport’s most wonderful event. That year there was buzz; we were going to see if the prodigy from the West coast was for real…. this kid, Tiger.

My expectations were in check, even though I had marveled at his last US Amateur win, when he truly seemed a man among boys. It was crazy how, not only could he torque his body like a cyborg to drive the ball 20-30 yards further than the rest of the field, but he never seemed to miss the testy 6-footer, effortlessly draining golf’s most annoying abasement. Yet and still, I figured he’d be in line with another prodigy, who, while enjoying tour success, was finding Major victories a tougher nut to crack….. Phil Mickelson.

Thursday’s front nine seemed to confirm my expectation; Tiger struggled and made the turn at +4, inauspicious. Moreover, the back nine appeared particularly penal in 1997…. I reckoned Tiger was about to be humbled by Bobby Jones. I got up to get another brew, my choice back then, 22 Oz. Heinekens, and sat back to watch the schooling. But then he birdied 10 and 12! Suddenly his tentative walk to the next tee became the confident and laser focused stride that would define his greatness. When he eagled 15, things started to feel special. This was not Phil Mickelson! He shot 30 on the back nine en route to an eventual rout, which would pretty much be the norm for the next decade. The Tiger Woods era had begun.

Woods’ domination of golf in his prime will never be matched in any other sport. At a time when the pool of young and exceptional golfers was exploding, producing talent from around the globe, Tiger rendered tournaments foregone conclusions. He won so often, by so much, that he threatened to deflate the ballooning interest he had created. In 76 stroke play tournament wins, Woods won by a combined 229 strokes. In the 2000 US Open at Pebble Beach, the rest of the field couldn’t break par. Woods shot 12 under. It’s fair to say, had Tiger never been born, Ernie Els, already a dual US Open winner and pegged for greatness in 1997, may have enjoyed 10 Major victories. As it was, he has the distinction of finishing second to Woods more than any other player, struggling to only two British Open titles after Tiger came on the scene. Mickelson would not break through for his first Masters until well after suffering the ignominy of the “best not to have yet won a major” label. Two great golfers, who suffered the misfortune of being the greatest’s contemporaries.

I remember vividly thinking to myself, as Tiger hoisted perhaps his 12th or 13th Major trophy, that history would begrudge him for a storyline that was too perfect, everything too damn easy. Sure, his focus and commitment were recognized by all, but still. Surely life could not deal pocket aces over and over again, fame and riches beyond imagination, without any struggle at all. Instead of the “greatest,” Woods’ seemingly effortless brilliance and unencumbered success would mar the verdict, donning him the “luckiest” instead. Nobody can dine on nothing but chicken salad to the grave… at some point chicken shit has to be on the menu.

After his fourth Masters title in 2005 Woods began to betray chinks in his armor. The ungodly body torque his swing required began to take a toll. News items of assorted aches and pains became more frequent, as did “fores” off the tee. After he gutted out an 18-hole playoff win for his 14th Major in the US Open at Torrey Pines over Rocco Mediate, it was revealed he had played with a broken leg. For the first time there was vulnerability in the Woods narrative, a hint that the hordes of life’s vagaries may be closing in….. and then it all fell apart.

Since Tiger Woods’ personal peccadillos exploded into relentless tabloid scandal, and his body, no doubt encouraged by unrelenting stress, fully abandoned him like many sponsors, fellow pros, and the PGA establishment, more than a decade has flown by. What seemed idyllic became a sad saga, an unrelenting grind marked by futility. Those of us concerned the story was just too neat and tidy need not have worried, Tiger got his and then some…. and then some more. It took a while for us Tigerphiles to finally begin thinking of throwing in the towel, but one can only watch so many false starts and early withdrawals, missed cuts and ugly double bogies, dejected assurances focused on what went right rather than wrong…. the hacker’s mantra. How foolish we were to doubt him.

What Tiger accomplished Sunday has no equal. Professional golf at the highest level is sport’s most unforgiving competition. At 43 winning the Masters with no health issues is special. When Jack Nicklaus performed the feat at 46 it became golf’s greatest moment…. until Sunday.

Anyone who has had spinal surgery knows the pain and drudgery which follows. Golf at the $5 nassau level suffers greatly when swings produce jabs of discomfort; at the very top it’s a disqualifying distraction. The willingness of Woods to go under the knife four different times, and continually humble himself before peers he used to dominate, speaks to sacrifice that so often underpins true greatness.. Years of struggle to simply not embarrass himself, answering the constant questions from reporters, reworking his swing in line with his faltering body’s limitations, failing again and again, all components of an unrelenting test of character. At some point even those closest to him had to feel they were patronizing him about playing on tour again. Winning the Masters? C’mon. Delusional.

The Masters is unique in that every past champion is technically invited to join the field every year for life. That rule has undergone some unspoken modification as previous winners, well into middle age and long since not competitive, stunk up the joint and actually slowed play looking for lost balls in Augusta azaleas. Just 18 months ago the 2019 champion was far closer to that indignity than any green jacket. Now it’s in his closet and all of us who doubted him recognize the folly of our impatience. Great men do great things…. the greatest do the greatest things. Tiger Woods, the best to ever play any game at any time. BC

After the Nuremberg Trials were largely successful in bestowing collective condemnation on Nazi atrocities during WWII, American public opinion edged toward an internationalist sensibility on basic human rights. Such a mindset was critical to completing the full transformation from isolationism to global leader. If we were going to engage vigorously throughout the planet under the rationale of “spreading democracy,” we had to be mindful of universal truths and open to some form of transnational enforcement when they were grievously violated. It only made sense.

Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda, Sudan and most recently Syria all punctuate the glaring failure of international treaties in deterring nation-state criminals from launching pogroms against their fellow citizens. Tragically, “never again” has become a worn and empty trope, a salve on guilt rather than any determinant of commitment to action. Yet and still, as a matter of national understanding, and a guiding ambition, the US has never had any choice other than to exhibit patience if not enthusiasm for international justice. After all, its tenets are reflections of what we have always held our system out to be… intolerant of gross abuses to human freedom. To do any less would tarnish the brand we have been selling since the end of WWII.

The International Criminal Court (ICC) has been operating out of The Hague in the Netherlands since July, 2002, the result of the Rome Statute, which has 124 signatories. The Court follows meticulous guidelines to assess and authorize investigating charges of atrocities. To date, 44 individuals have been indicted in the ICC, including Ugandan rebel leader Joseph Kony, Sudanese president Omar Al Bashir, Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi, and Ivorian President Laurent Gbagbo, to name a few.

The US has been in Afghanistan and Iraq now almost twice as long as we were in Vietnam. From the start it was acknowledged that fighting fanatics like the Taliban and ISIS was nasty business and would require some rolls in the mud. Over almost two decades some of those forays have been laid bare for public consideration. Abu Ghraib was the most prominent example of the ugliness American personnel were capable of when not provided rigorous structure that demanded accountability. Tales of CIA and Blackwater involvement in torture of captives in Afghanistan, Iraq and “black sites” around the world are a deeply disturbing facet of the war on terror that all previous administrations pledged and sought to demonstrate they were taking seriously. Even though US administrations had problems with treating our people on a par with African strongmen, the importance of at least lip service to accountability was a bipartisan given; our military reflected best practices and abuse was rogue behavior and not tolerated. After all, even though our national interests often lead to moral hypocrisy, it’s never been anything we are proud of. We strive to be better. Until now.

This week the Trump foreign policy braintrust is celebrating a “great victory,” one national security advisor John Bolton termed “the second happiest day of my life.” Trump, too, was jubilant with the “major international victory.” What, one may ask, caused such satisfaction? Some big pact? Maybe a diplomatic breakthrough? Not with this bunch. No, the jubilation is geared toward the ICC’s decision to end an investigation begun in 2016 into alleged crimes against Afghan detainees held by US forces and interrogated by CIA operatives. ICC judges made clear the decision not to proceed had less to do with any innocence of the accused as with the futility of building a case in the face of, not simply a lack of cooperation, but coercive opposition by both US and Afghan authorities. In other words, the ICC’s resources to investigate were overwhelmed by US means for covering up the facts.

Indeed, Trump greeted the decision by declaring any “attempt to target American, Israeli or allied personnel for prosecution will be met with a swift and vigorous response.” It’s been a full team effort diving to the bottom, with Secretary of State Mike Pompeo doing his part last month by promising to deny or revoke visas of any ICC investigators looking into actions by the US or allies. It’s a good bet the President will be touting his cabal’s coordinated success at obfuscation to the wretched core at his next rally.

Of course, both Trump and Pompeo are speaking out of turn as far as European allies go since all are Rome Statute signatories and bound to cooperate with the ICC. The United States was an original participant but pulled out in 2002 in preparation to launch war and occupation. Who did the honors and “unsigned us”? John Bolton…. on what he termed the 1st happiest day of his life. God’s truth!

So, exactly like the Mueller Report and any inquiries into Russian election interference, any talk about US misdeeds abroad are simply “witch hunt” lies which will bring MAGA’s wrath down on the accuser. The ICC now joins countless others on Trump’s enemies list, except when they have something convenient to use against another of our now countless foes. Either way, from extolling how “great” Egypt’s tyrant el-Sisi is doing, to providing pep tweets to Kim, to now equating war crimes investigations with nefarious intentions, we are lurching quickly to the wrong side of history’s tracks. America First is morphing right before us from “sorry, we already gave at the office” to “what are you going to do about it?”

Donald Trump’s brand has never reflected anything other than the most odious traits of the human condition, and it now defines US policy. Being smart means getting away with stuff. Courage is bold-faced lies and attacking accusers. Shared values are a stick to use against those you want to exclude, and moral outrage is whatever works at the moment to tarnish opponents. Truth exists only as some obscure notion to contrast minute-to-minute declarations that inconvenient facts are “fake.” Trumpism flys in the face of everything our national character is supposed to be, far more closely resembling what we heretofore routinely condemned in countries we counted as implacable adversaries. So the only thing shocking about this Administration’s disgusting celebration of formally renouncing the decency we used to claim is our indifference to it. BC