Peanut Gallery

The DR has vigilantly watched Presidential State of the Union addresses for almost 50 years. Lively support by a particular President’s partisans is not unusual, and sometimes, for example senior Bush’s SOTU following the end of the first Gulf War, the ardor is bipartisan. Yet it is fair to call GOP frat boy hooting last Tuesday shockingly servile, mindless support of a leader disinterested in any agenda past the constant chaos his daily outrages initiate. No subject – with the exception of a particularly idiotic declaration that, were he not elected, we’d be at war with North Korea – was off limits. Even supposed conservative taboos like tariffs and deficit spending, not to mention negotiating with the Taliban, were applauded. Indeed, by the end of Trump’s Capitol Hill recitation, it was fully established, if any doubt remained and well beyond further debate… the GOP is the Donald’s party, completely at his beckon call.

Coming into the speech it was even odds the night would turn absurd. After fiascos in London, Brussels and Helsinki, as well as a plethora of unhinged press conferences and countless rally meltdowns, Trump had eroded confidence in his fidelity to reasonable decorum. Nobody could assure he wouldn’t make a mockery of the proceedings by going off script and airing his visceral resentment before the nation and the world. When a gilded version of Lonesome Rhodes is POTUS, all bets on propriety are off! That keeping to his TelePrompTer and not going shock and awe, whine and degrade, translated to high approval numbers, speaks more to impossibly low expectations months of erratic behavior creates than any triumph of oratory.

Of course, anybody with delusions the address represented a new spirit of reconciliation from the White House, as its final passages professed, was quickly slapped back to their senses by the President’s ensuing tweet storms on everything from “witch hunt” madness to Democrat fondness for drugs and MS 13 to his ugly recognition of “Pocahontas” declaring to run for President in 2020. Nothing Trump says can be relied on whatever the venue.

Either way, the GOP made clear this is their guy, executive time and all. Fear of the base’s 87% apparently carries the day over the nation’s paltry 37% and solidifies loyalty to a patron unlikely to return the favor. What appeared as at least a whiff of reality check after the disasterous government shutdown once again smells of la la land, with McConnell begging the Donald not to go the national emergency route, but at the mercy of Pelosi and Co., who aren’t going to provide anything close to what will satisfy Limbaugh, Coulter et al. It’s useful to remember Trump is as much a product of Fox/AM as his wretched core it created. It’s wall or fall because they say so…. not him. Trump’s simply doing what he does, dancing as fast as he can, terrified of a reckoning.

It would be wonderful if we only had to worry about another government shutdown. However, that’s simply one of a host of self-inflicted maladies Trump has foisted on a nation beleaguered by his minute-by-minute grievance toward whoever or whatever threatens his narcissistic sensibilities. Departing pretend Attorney General Matthew Whitaker’s testimony before Congress provided House Republicans another opportunity to demonstrate how much of Trump’s water they are willing to carry. Six months ago Devin Nunes seemed on the cutting edge of Trumpist subservience. Now, judging from GOP ranking member Douglas Collins’ (GA) historonics Friday, shamelessly equating Congress’ oversight role with a lust for “publicity stunts” and “character assassinations,” it’s no longer outlier but norm. Listening to Collins hold forth about “fishing expeditions” he was enthusiastic to join as recently as last October, it’s hard to envision anything Mueller’s team may uncover that will modify unified GOP coddling of the President.

Worse, word out of the White House is morale has never been lower, and virtually all of Trump’s senior staff, including Chief-of-Staff Mick Mulvaney, Economic Advisor Larry Kudlow and even yes-man Secretary of State Mike Pompeo are looking for the exits. It’s becoming increasingly clear nobody of stature and/or any hint of competence wants to work in this Administration, an unprecedented crisis. This West Wing offers nothing but the certainty of high lawyer fees and backstabbing; that’s not going to change no matter how hard the GOP cheers Trump on. You can’t fake until you make a Presidency; and this regime is simply a lit fuse fizzling toward disaster, pretenders without a clue, led by a fool with itchy little Twitter fingers. Common sense dictates this puts us all in grave danger. Moreover, despite a change in House leadership, Tuesday night clarified the cavalry has not yet reached any visible horizon.

Watching wild-eyed chest thumping last Tuesday evening about never giving in to the scourge of socialism, one was struck by how caught up in the moment GOP members seemed. They were like a football team, amped on stimulants and a pre-game pep talk. It was merely a rally by any other name, us against them.

All in with Trump means never planning to say your sorry, and they surely never will. In other words, doing the right thing is no longer an option, case closed. It doesn’t matter what Mueller discovers. The narrative is infallible and will not be abandoned; facts or the national interest are now ancillary, it’s about Trump and his preservation, come what may. There are no Howard Bakers in this crowd.

Trump is as lame as any duck that ever waddled down Pennsylvania Avenue. Right now he’s reduced to again threatening to shut down the US government over funding of a wall conjured up for no other purpose than to feed a storyline his wretched core, and now a fully beholden Republican Party, place above all else. A manufactured crisis with no solution possible, held out as a panacea worth oblivion to achieve. Past that nonsense Trump offers no vision or plan of any account, and Mueller’s team awaits, along with plenty of House Conmittees. Staying in power is now all that counts, and reaching across the aisle to solve real problems, or hold a corrupt Administration accountable, is the last prescription this bunch aims to fill.

It’s worth 20 minutes of one’s life to watch former Speaker of the House John Boehner recently discuss the futility of leading the House GOP in any constructive direction. His conclusions, though several years too late to do any good, are accurate… the notion Fox/AM is a tool of the GOP is ass backwards… Fox and Friends now calls the shots! Understanding that fact makes “support Trump or bust” inevitable. Those hoots and hollers last Tuesday were first and foremost directed back home, a chorus of nihilism meant to reassure nihilists, who still somehow hold our nation hostage. BC

Life Turns

When I was a teenager skateboarding was everything to me. Even after I spent several months in the hospital recuperating from getting hit head-on by a car, the result of foolishly crossing its path after disengaging from holding on to the back bumper of another vehicle, I rose and slept thinking about becoming a better skater. This was the late 70s, and of course we didn’t know it then, but the East Coast Toke Team, as we dubbed ourselves, was pioneering a culture that would evolve and prove its durability. At the time we all simply felt ourselves on the outside looking in, alienated from the norms of the high school experience, stoned most of our day and disinterested in joining much of anything. But man could we skate. Downhill gave way to banks, which then evolved to vertical; and once we discovered that, actually skating straight up walls on ramps and empty swimming pools, nothing was the same. We were obsessed.

Yet and still, fact is, I was cursed from the beginning by my own physique when it came to skating. Tall and getting taller, my size 15s hogged the 30” board, taking longer than my peers to establish the right position when shifting from move to move. Worse, I was the anti-gymnast, which meant I was wholly ill-suited to many of the contortions necessary to take my game to the next level; I simply wasn’t built for it. Finally, my lanky frame and big feet made running out mistakes far more challenging, and that meant meeting unforgiving pavement more often. Many was the night I tossed and turned, vividly reminded of the day’s miscalculations… a sprained wrist here, scarred thigh there. Having already paid a lifetime’s worth of dues recently, I developed a dread for falling which would do much to inhibit the progress only hard knocks could secure.

All of these limitations would conspire to create a moment of truth a couple of years later. We were skating yet another hastily constructed half pipe, this one located in the Annandale VA woods, when I realized it was no use, I wasn’t going to be able to keep up. What was fast becoming the bare minimum in terms of an acceptable quiver of tricks I didn’t have and wasn’t willing to donate the skin necessary to get. The summer before I had been introduced to surfing, which fully complemented my love of the ocean and only had drowning as a hazard to be avoided; I could live with that. Right then and there I checked out from skateboarding. Though I would skate intermittently through the next decade, and astound new friends with abilities they couldn’t imagine a 6’6” 200 pounder possessed, that was it for an obsession that once defined me.

The East Coast Toke Team went on to attain a cult following and legendary status within the East Coast skating scene. They became ruling locals at the Cedar Crest Country Club ramp, perhaps the East Coast’s most famous skate spot, and while we grew apart, my roots are with them, which I believe they appreciate. I was there at the start… usually that’s enough. I am certain each of my buddies, who allowed their passion for pools, ramps, anything skatable, to resist the responsibilities of adulthood for an extra decade, harbor some regret for doing so. How much more prosperous and comfortable they would now be had they, like me, headed off to college and turned the page, is something each may ponder… or not. Who’s to say but them. Yet and still, passion has its own price tag. The injuries I refused to endure they absorbed well after the luxury youth provides to recovery. We had a reunion now near ten years ago and the toll was evident to any eyes that noticed. Additional years will do nothing but enhance cumulative suffering.

All of which brings me to my hero, Dan Heyman. He was a year younger than our core membership, actually the little brother of an acquaintance. One day he just started hanging out and that was that. From the start he was ahead of the curve, always the first to attempt and perfect something new. Willing to suffer for his progress, old pictures show him in a leg cast here or a bandaged wrist there, he nonetheless most always appeared effortless and developed his own style, that while mimicking West Coast idols, contained more than its share of his own originality. There was never a doubt Dan was imprisoned by his talent, and would take his place in the evolving 80s DC-area skate scene as far as it would lead him. Why not?

Now he is 55 plus and still doing it! Which makes him more than extraordinary. Of course it no longer determines his life; he is happily married and works for a living. But he can often be found in an empty pool doing what he did 40 years ago, a bit more carefully, but with no less intensity. I am not at all surprised by this, but it’s incomprehensible nonetheless. Skating concrete pools in one’s late 50s really has no valid point of reference. I suppose playing Rugby gets close, but that’s still done on soft grass, immeasurably more forgiving than cold concrete. To watch Dan Heyman take his stoic turn among a gaggle of shredders, some now young enough to be his grandkids, defines what life is supposed to be about. Bucket lists are for those unsatisfied with what they are doing; Dan doesn’t seem to have such concerns. Why would he? He’s Peter Pan, still employing the gift god gave him without apology; and he still has the courage to pay the price it demands, with a body ever mindful of decades worth of previous insults. He never was much for exhuberance, but his determination not to abide time’s dictatorial outreach, implies boundless passion and commitment most of us can’t even imagine.

Dan and his wonderful wife Kim recently purchased a beach flat in downtown Ocean City, MD, within throwing distance of the town’s skatepark. The idea of spending retirement snaking runs on the park’s halfpipe in the morning and hitting the beach or links by afternoon strikes me as utopian and blows me away in its utter manifest destiny. I want nothing more than to hang out and watch him do it…. and I’ve told him so. But I’m sure to Dan it’s simply a no-brainer… what else would he do? This is what living life out loud looks like. BC

Adlibber-In-Chief

Traditionally, the State of the Union address is one of the world’s most boring spectacles. A POTUS strides confidently down the aisle, after being announced with much fanfare, and shakes a lot of hands, mostly his Congressional acolytes. He then ambles to the podium for what most always amounts to a mind-numbing recitation of his administration’s accomplishments, followed by an even more excruciating laundry list of planned initiatives, all of which sound far more ambitious than how they will actually play out. As if the exercise isn’t close enough to watching paint dry on its own, add to it continued interruptions of manufactured applause, as Democrat and Republican lawmakers take turns clapping for what they feel needs punctuation. By the end all eyes are glazed and everyone is glad a full year will pass until such tedium will be experienced again.

However, there is a method to this dullness. By breaking down the previous year, and anticipating the next one, into neat and predictable pieces of ordered oratory, US governance is given a sense of routine structure, a predictability. We the people can remain confident that the continuum of America’s enduring brand of pluralism is safe moving forward. And say what you will of the enterprise, Winston Churchill probably did it best when he quipped liberal democracy was the worst system he could think of…. except for all the rest of them. Indeed, put in perspective, an evening of run on drudgery seems a small price to pay for a process that underpins relative freedom and cooperation.

Things may go a good bit differently this year.

Tonight the American President lumbers into the House Chamber truly certain of only one thing: most of the electorate strongly disapproves of, not only his job performance, but him as a fellow human being. He also knows that the shrinking minority of his strongest supporters expect him to shake up most any traditional accoutrement of his office; they are a bloc of Joe Wilsons, who appear to be all this President can rely on lately.

Trump’s growing disdain for sticking to simply delivering what his decidedly subpar speechwriting team provides has been clear to anyone paying attention since the last State of the Union. At campaign rallies, and formal events alike, the President has taken increasing comfort in, not just wandering from a provided script, but lurching completely out-of-bounds, enthusiastically adlibbing with his own set of facts and anecdotes. Tonight may be no different. Why would it be?

Of course inviting Trump to highlight his achievements is like asking Rodney Dangerfeld to mention those who dissed him. After all, this is the guy who said recently he is responsible for the safest year in the history of US air travel… there hasn’t been a commercial air crash in this country since 2009. And he’s the same story teller who lauded the Dow reaching 25K the other day… trouble is it had done the same last year and was just getting back to that figure after months of investor hell, mostly precipitated from White House chaos. It’s a sure bet he’ll boast about our European allies now paying more of their fair share for defense, the result of his steadfast refusal to play the hapless sucker anymore. That the world witnessed something altogether different during last year’s ugly shame in Brussels will, of course, form the unfortunate subtext for his self-congratulations. And one can bet their 401K Trump will hail our new environmental realism with no mention of last year’s increase in hydrocarbon expulsion, feared by many another nail in planet Earth’s coffin.

Yet and still, as surreal and delusional as the President’s triumphs are sure to sound, his list of demands moving forward is what should really worry those in favor of democratic stability. This President now banks on the worst iterations of nativism to butter his political toast. And with Mueller closing in, and his own son almost surely facing indictment, the hints from the White House of Trump calling for the nation to “unite behind” him may very well transcribe into shrieks about duct-taped women in trunks and deep state conspiracies favoring Hillary Clinton.

Trump just proved fully capable of the worst type of governmental sabotage and surely will spend much of tonight justifying and deflecting blame for the shutdown he created. It’s doubtful Stephen Miller is capable of verse sufficient to Trump’s chaotic mindset for getting those points across. Thus, he will feel compelled to punctuate on the fly. Buckle up. Moreover, regardless of how much his lawyers beg him not to publicly air his cascading legal circumstances, would anyone be surprised if Trump doesn’t use a national address to take his “witch hunt” tweets to the next level?

The record provides nothing positive as to what Trump is capable of spewing once he veers off the rails. All indications are tonight we may see his worst, which his wretched core no doubt will applaud. This is a President fully indebted to a constituency informed in total by a 24/7 multimedia platform of provocateurs, who subjugate all responsibility for truth to an endless stream of shock and outrage. Speeches meant to assuage and find common ground are equated to buckling at the feet of “establishment’ enemies. It’s doubtful Trump wants to disappoint the likes of Rush and Mark Levin.

No enemy of America could ask for more than an elected President convinced his political survival, indeed personal freedom, necessitates continuous attacks on institutions most responsible for protecting against that opponent’s incursions on the nation’s security. Even better would be a bloc of supporters capable of forcing one of the country’s major political parties to equate their parochial political fortunes with allowing that leader to do his worst at dividing fellow countrymen, naked incompetence and corruption taking a backseat to the visceral bigotry and resentment he voices like none before him. Tonight we will see how willing Trump is to clarify before the world this daily double of ruination. I wouldn’t bet against him. BC

Right to Lose

One term will drive anyone masochistic enough to sit through the confirmation hearings of GOP Supreme Court nominees bat crazy…Stare Decisis. Webster’s defines the obscure Latin concept as “the legal principle of determining points in litigation by precedent.” Simple enough. But a drop of water is also in itself innocuous, repeated over and over again on a person’s forehead it becomes torture.

Over and over again is exactly how both of Trump’s nominees to the Supreme Court reassured skeptical Democrats on the Senate Judiciary Committee about the importance of precedent. Justices who turned a blind eye to stare decisis were clearly out of line… case closed. Don’t worry about us, we respect the SCOTUS as an institution enough to abide by its past guidance. Agendas are taboo behind the big bench, we are better than that…..Uh, We’ll see.

Flyover states are itching to get Roe v Wade overturned, and to that end their legislators have been going full Handmaid’s Tale, the more obtrusive the better. All to get in front of what they now assume is an understanding High Court ready to make some serious changes to federal guidance of the reproductive rights playing field.

In line with other states seeking to cripple the ability of clinics to provide abortions under ever more outrageously disengenuous claims of protecting patient safety, Louisiana has passed a law mandating abortion providers have admitting privileges at a hospital not more than 30 miles away from where the procedure is performed. While complication rates at certified clinics approach the minuscule, and any ER staff could presumably attend any patient suffering such an outcome, restricting the pool of providers to meet the new criteria will leave one eligible practitioner in the entire state, according to reproductive rights advocates. Piled atop all of the other beauracracy and deliberate red tape, the new law is tantamount to making abortion virtually inaccessible in the state. Were the Supreme Court to uphold it, there is precious little doubt what direction we are heading toward. The next case to come forward for consideration will surely be even more obstructive, until the whole ball of wax comes up for review, or until so many restrictions are validated, the original ruling will have little relevance as a guiding principle.

That Roe v Wade is established law, fully upheld and validated by court precedent is beyond dispute. Planned Parenthood v Danforth (1976), Colautti v Franklin (1979), City of Akron v Akron Center for Reproductive Health (1983), Planned Parenthood v Casey (1992), Hill v Colorado (2000), Stenberg v Carhart (2003) all provide a steady flow of stare decisis spanning decades of high court consideration of the fundamental issues surrounding the original Roe v Wade ruling in 1973. The precedent couldn’t be clearer or more ingrained, the result of decision after decision.

Doe-eyed Maine Senator Susan Collins, who has created a brand as a fair minded Republican, particularly regarding reproductive issues, exclaimed how confident she was then nominee Neil Gorsuch would follow precedent’s guidance on the court. We had a nice long talk in my office, Collins gushed. Indeed Gorsuch took care to say all the right things during his confirmation hearings. He explained that precedent was the “anchor of the law” and requires a good judge to “start with a heavy, heavy presumption in favor of precedent in our system,” and it’s reckless to “…. go reinvent the wheel every day.”

Despite earlier writings questioning whether Roe was “settled” case law, nominee Brett Kavanaugh was glad to give full lip service to stare decisis. “As a general proposition I understand the importance of the precedent set forth in Roe v. Wade,” Kavanaugh said. Now that he is Justice Kavanaugh his vote on the upcoming Louisiana decision should speak volumes.

Of course it’s possible both Gorsuch and Kavanaugh have decided overturning Roe v Wade isn’t even necessary. By allowing legislatures to simply do their worst and erect one obstacle after another under the laughable guise of concern for the women they demonize, the Trumpie duo can achieve essentially the same ends and technically not make a mockery of their duties to the job neither bowled over anyone with their intellectual qualifications for.

Where all of this leaves a woman’s right to choose may very well be up to Chief Justice John Roberts, who increasingly appears burdened fully with what his court’s legacy will be. If, as is likely, Gorsuch and Kavanaugh live down to one’s lower expectations, it will fall to Roberts to balance constitutional principles with what has always been a personal moral and religious preoccupation. If the court’s previous rulings on Roe v Wade do anything, it’s to punctuate this point. Even many pro-life advocates concede overruling Roe would ignore stare decisis; they simply assert the gravity of abortion’s moral offense renders such concerns insignificant.

No bloc of our divided America is more radicalized than pro-life true believers. They hold that abortion is murder… always. To this now essential glue of the GOP base, bedrock constitutional principles responsible for the very structure of our governing system are merely arcane obstacles to justice, enablers of infanticide. In fact, most are fully able to divorce the issue from their zealous right wing politics, a blind spot in their otherwise full throated identity as “constitutional conservatives”. Debating that point is the very essence of a fool’s errand. Whether such futility now addles the Supreme Court will be apparent after the Louisiana decision is rendered. BC

Saboteurs

One of the most mean-spirited and ignorant suppositions of Fox/AM’s brand of “neoconservatism” is that liberal democratic governments have little role to play regarding society’s poorest citizens. The idea that Great Society programs are unfair to taxpayers fortunate enough not to need them, and even more idiotic, provide such a level of high-living their recipients naturally lose all motivation to improve their situation, can only be conceived by imaginations sick with a desire to exploit boundless resentment. How the GOP could devolve to a point where poor whites, many fully dependent on such programs, make up part of its most vocal support for platforms created to make it harder and more humiliating to access benefits they themselves actually depend on, speaks to the formidable delusions bigotry fosters. Cheering a lazy supposed billionaire’s screeds against those struggling, based solely on the subscript that he’s actually dog whistling about minorities, is acute psychosis.

The Trump Administration, with no federal legislative mandate, has used the mechanisms of executive power to increase the paperwork and red tape for programs like Medicaid and SNAP, which serve the nation’s neediest. Moreover, drug testing and work requirements are the abasement du jour Trumpism has embraced with gusto, following in the footsteps of Tea Party darlings like Scott Walker in Wisconsin, Gregg Abbot in Texas, and Matt Bevin in Kentucky, with the express purpose of rendering the process of accessing a vital safety net more trouble and humiliation than its worth. Bullies gotta bully. And it’s far more than just public assistance under siege by pencil pushing nihilists for no other reason than the quest for political advantage.

Pamela Herd and Donald Moynihan, Professors of Public Policy at Georgetown University, have written a book titled Administrative Burden: Policymaking by Other Means which examines the myriad of ways the GOP has worked diligently at the task of sabotaging government services, depriving large swaths of citizens everything from voter registration services to health insurance by simply making it more difficult for them to receive what, before the plague of government by Fox/AM, was a bipartisan contract.

Herd and Moynihan succinctly underscore GOP hypocrisy regarding its claims of vigilance toward reducing government beauracracy. Fact is, in broad and vital areas of American life like voter participation, healthcare, food assistance, college grants, minority business development, family planning and special needs services the Republican Party at all levels of government fights tooth and nail to increase regulatory burdens, often in the most petty and beauracraticly nitpicking ways. Forcing advanced auditing requirements on families all out to feed themselves, a favorite of flyover lawmakers as well as Mick Mulvaney, makes Scrooge look philanthropic.

Deregulation is only for a targeted constituency with the lobbying muscle to promote right wing electoral prospects. Those outside that steadily shrinking tent have long been labeled the enemy and viewed with ever increasing disdain, to be dealt with in a myriad of ever more overt ways.

Trump has taken meanness toward those struggling the most to near absurd levels, often punctuated on Facebook by memes shared by, first bots, and then his wretched core. Creating equivalence between drug testing for jobs involving public safety and our poorest who often depend on SNAP benefits and welfare assistance to eat provides an Orwellian twist to common sense. And targeting 45-60 year old Medicaid recipients, the group most likely to be facing disabling conditions, for onerous work requirements is outrageous in its petty cruelty.

Of course, pro-life zealots have no bigger panderer than this President, who recognizes rabid evangelical support is his Alamo as impeachment becomes more viable. Planned Parenthood is viewed as a fiendish enterprise by this constituency. The guidance this Administration’s HHS is providing builds on state efforts that make terminating even a life-threatening pregnancy a harrowing nightmare in 2/3 of America. The latest strategy of forcing reproductive services, in the name of patient safety, to meet the same facility paradigms required for hospitals, despite the fact that dangerous complications from such procedures approach minuscule percentages, clarifies an abyss of ugly disingenuousness that has become a sweet spot for Trumpie legislators.

How the wave of newly elected progressives to the House will get along with more moderate old hands wary of their unbridled enthusiasm to shake things up has become a preoccupation. Herd and Moynihan astutely point out that uniting to push back against GOP sabotage of basic government services is a great place to find common ground; they couldn’t be more spot on. Whatever the differences in legislative temperament, fighting against efforts to take us back to the turn of last century by villainizing the poor and ratcheting up punitive paperwork is a long overdue no-brainer,. Along with ending the crisis that is this Presidency, it should be priority number one. BC

Long Con

George C. Scott was a great actor with many wonderful films. Patton inarguably topped the list and was unforgettable. Yet and still, for my money a close second was a far lesser known production titled The Flim Flam Man, in which Scott plays an aging grifter in the rural south, who takes a young AWOL soldier under his wing and teaches him the fine art of fleecing those in search of an easy buck.

Mordecai Jones teaches his increasingly disillusioned protege just how many there are fully prepared to cheat their way to a windfall. Jones shows young Curley Treadaway that, while “you can’t cheat an honest man,” more greed and “24 carat ignorance” exists than the young man ever thought possible. The story concludes after Curley, intent on redemption, sacrifices himself to help his old mentor escape jail and get out of town. The final scene has Jones exactly where he began, hopping a freight, presumably toward another town with more greedy marks he can teach expensive lessons to.

Of course, what makes the film so good is Scott’s performance, creating an empathetic antihero the audience can love, a scoundrel with wisdom and a soul. His victims elicit no sympathy because they get what their greedy inclinations deserve. Curley’s melancholy grows as he realizes so many of his peers are partial to greed and dishonesty, that good men are a rarer commodity than he imagined.

Who knew when I first saw The Flim Fam Man as a child it was a harbinger for political pestilence that would bedevil my country as an adult? What imagination could foresee an entire culture of con men and women feeding off the “24 carat ignorance” of millions from every corner of America. Failed DJs, perennial political losers, fringe journalists and financial fraudsters, all carving out territory ripe for fleecing. Virtually unlimited pools of ready victims, whose only requirement is acknowledging their grievances are legitimate, their nastiness and resentment fully understandable. A grifter’s dream…..the golden age.

Turns out the “silent majority” Richard Nixon lauded were more than willing to open their wallets for the right cause that touched their cold cold hearts. All they desired was validation, a narrative that made them the heroes for a change. The world that was passing them by at a frightening rate, both scaring the bejeezes out of them and making them madder than hell, needed to make sense. What they didn’t understand was bad… wasn’t it?

Two fat balding misanthropes with a fondness for fiction, and big chips on their rounded shoulders answered loudly and often in the affirmative. Roger Ailes and Rush Limbaugh were visionaries in their belief of the enduring loyalty media platforms could create with messages tailored, not to how things are, but to a simple storyline, a sad saga of oppression, White men the heretofore silent and stoic victims. Turns out Archie Bunker only wanted to know other Archies were out there. Ignorance was no vice, it was merely a starting point for continuing education, available 24/7 and designed solely to reinforce existing biases.

Current events and the history that informed them could be made to fit comfortably into a narrative that always ended up at the same place, with the same conclusions. And make no mistake, get them to trust you as a compadre and they’ll make you take their money. Gold, identity protection, real estate opportunities, retirement planning, timeshares, home security, preparing for Armageddon when Obama was President, enjoying MAGA’s economic miracle with Trump, not to mention countless prosperity gospel megachurch prophets and 501-C3 political non-profits, an endless flow of cash from suckers too good to be true, ready to believe all things too good to be true. True patriots MAGAing in unison, paying what is necessary for liberty. Forget “build it and they will come,” simply validate it and they will pay! What started as a fledgling alternative news channel for former Nixon diehards who still believed those commies at Kent State got what they had coming, ended in the White House with Donald Trump…. the first Fox/AM POTUS.

Robert Mueller served 12 full years as FBI Director from 2001-2013 under Presidents from opposite ends of the political spectrum. A decorated Marine Captain in Vietnam, it’s hard to find anything but praise for his long career of public service…. except within the Fox/AM universe. Sadly, that’s now enough for just about half of those polled to doubt his team’s investigation will produce findings fair to President Trump.

Even as one Trump crony after another has faced indictments, most pleading guilty quicker than a quarter horse race, rats fleeing the sinking ship of Trump for President 2016, Fox/AM maintains a separate reality for its viewer base. The narrative is constantly refreshed as needed, facts that don’t jibe with its direction omitted with prejudice. What looks like an organized effort to actively aid an enemy’s successful attempts to corrupt the integrity of our Presidential election process is fully eclipsed by the astounding proposition a deep state coup is underway, directed by a lifelong Republican who nonetheless favors Hillary Clinton enough to corrupt his efforts at her behest.

Roger Stone, whose indictment and arrest portends the clearest, most indisputable link yet to the Trump campaign’s active collusion with elements of the Russian government to swing Decision 2016 Trump’s way, is being defended as a martyr for freedom. Stone, who has always taken pride in an amoral pursuit of results at any cost, seems amused by the concept. In fact, Stone actually boasted of his Wikileaks connections after an initial hack into Democrat National Committee files in July of 2016, and gleefully predicted successive email dumps, more it seemed to brandish his credentials as the sleaziest of dirty tricksters than anything else. Through intermediaries, fellow Fox/AM universe grifters Jerome Corsi, himself under the Mueller microscope (he claims his precise predictions of the dumps were simply the result of uncanny intuition he has always possessed), and right-wing radio host Randy Credico, Stone kept apprised of Wikileak’s intrigue and announced coming public dispersements of embarrassing information that never should have seen the light of day. Direct contacts with a Trump Campaign higher up, said to be Steve Bannon, could be called a smoking gun but for the fact that Stone et al never really hid their activities in the first place!

Of course, no measure of overt shamelessness matters much to the suckers of the Fox/AM universe, who old Mordecai Jones no doubt would have sapped for every last red cent. Whether it happens in a back alley in the dead of night, or 5th Avenue during rush hour, they’re reserving judgement until Rushbo and Mark Levin instruct them throughout the day, and Fox prime timers reiterate the messaging come evening. That’s where we are, a bloc of saps there to be taken. But instead of Three Card Monte, or a swift bait and switch, this is the long con that tragically hurts us all; it’s as dangerous as it is laughably inane. Mueller time is finally here; the question is whether almost half of us believe what he has to say. BC

Rolling Stone

Unlike Donald Trump, who never acknowledges his lies, thus refusing accountability for the constant stream of fiction he spews, Roger Stone proudly owns his falsehoods. From the beginning of his professional life Stone has created a brand around the certainty he was willing to go lower than anybody else. If you were ready to contract with the devil to get elected, he was your man. Nothing was beneath him, no dirty trick too nasty, no scurrilous innuendo off limits. Since at least 1980 this has been his mission statement. Karl Rove on steroids.

In fact, it is fair to say, any determination that a candidate even met with Stone was more than enough proof they were going low and the campaign was going to get ugly. In retrospect, Stone’s close association with Trump for President is more than adequate to raise crimson flags concerning impropriety and justify getting at least cursory investigative wheels rolling. Of course, Trump couldn’t have cared less what incriminating optics his campaign sent forth, the better for post-election publicity after the defeat he never imagined was anything but certain. Who would really care, and after all, it would be wonderful fodder for the daily attacks he would bestow on President HRC from a comfy perch Fox was already preparing for him. Stone, too, surely banked on the certainty of a Clinton rout when making his post-election plans; he would be able to proudly add the plethora of his Wikileaks hijinx and grubby dark web activities to a resume any soulless GOP House hopeful would gladly write a check for…. before taking a long shower.

But then the impossible occurred. Hell did freeze over. Seditious collusion with foreign actors gets a lot more attention in the service of a POTUS than in the rear view mirror of a decisively vanquished nominee. Wendell Wilke was an obscure footnote, defeating FDR would have made him American history. And from the moment Wisconsin and Michigan came in for Trump, Roger Stone was royally screwed. Precisely how bad was clarified last night in a seven count federal indictment. Charges ranging from obstruction to multiple counts of lying to investigstors to witness tampering add up to the 66-year old Stone, who never met a garish double-breasted suit he didn’t want to wear, spending a sizable slice of his golden years in a federal-issued one-piece.

Mueller took his sweet time, but it’s a lock he now has Stone nine ways to Sunday, and it’s doubtful Old Roger has much Gordon Liddy in him. Is Stone the smoking gun that finishes Trump? That depends on just how criminal the GOP has become. All Mueller needs, it would seem in a world that still makes any kind of sense at all, is a clear connection between Trump’s campaign inner circle and Stone’s activities with Wikileaks to portray a vivid picture of collusion. The notion of plausible deniability with this President left the port long ago. Nobody accepts that sycophants Trump surrounds himself with get a ham and rye without telling him. Of course, the sad reality of our current state of affairs is that even wrapping that damning conspiracy with a bow won’t be enough to get 2/3 of the Senate to issue the nihilist-in-Chief his walking papers, rendering him fully vulnerable to criminal prosecution, or at least forcing his resignation.

Sadly, tragically, it’s very easy to imagine the GOP rank and file falling in line with Fox/AM universe talking points that dirty tricks are nothing new in American politics. False equivalence is what got us to this crisis point and it’s surely a bridge too far to hope it won’t continue to bedevil as dominoes fall around Trump. The coming narrative is as predictable as rush hour gridlock. Sure, there was some tomfoolery, but look at Hillary’s campaign, which the FBI and DOJ are covering up! Look at what JFK did in West Virginia! It was common knowledge LBJ cheated his way into Congress. The whole of US electoral history will be employed by the legion of Trumpie “contributors” to drive home one point: while unsavory, it wasn’t our definition of collusion. Politics in America has always been a dirty business; the left just can’t stand this President did it better than everybody else! His crap doesn’t stink anymore than the rest of them!

Stone, released on 250K bail, swore to reporters he would fight the charges in court. We’ll see. Mueller’s team is sure to sit down with Mr. Dirty Trickster and show him their cards. Does anybody really think Mueller would have finally gone after an indictment if he harbored any doubts the case was a slam dunk? Of course it’s possible our sugar daddy President has promised Stone a pardon, but the better one knows Trump, the less faith they put in his word. Stone knows him as well as anybody. Even if Trump does keep his word, legal fees and the stress a trial promises can’t seem appealing even to a relentless self-promoter. Besides, Stone is just one of a steadily growing list of indicted bottom feeders with goodies to offer; Mueller will surely aver he can get the Donald without him, leaving Stone a chump with a patron unable to rescue him even if he wanted to.

In other words, yet another chapter of our President’s seditious corruption appears likely to be fully fleshed out. Whether it will be enough to create a tipping point for GOP Senators heretofore determined to carry Trump’s water is unclear. Surely, they have no warm and fuzzies for the guy who just put them through more than a month of political hell because Rush and Ann Coulter called him a wimp. But we’ve been down this road too many times. This is a group of pols uncanny in their suffering of the fool who somehow consumed them when they weren’t looking. Assuming all Democrats voted to impeach, not a sure bet with Joe Manchin and Doug Jones in the caucus, 19 Republicans would have to do the dirty deed. Hard to envision right now.

Perhaps there simply is no threshold Mueller’s investigation and Trump’s hourly unhinged ineptitude can meet that will make his removal a likelihood. That distinct possibility punctuates a nation circling the bottom of the bowl. It was clear to anybody who paid attention to Trump’s campaign, and undertook even a cursory look at his personal history, electing Trump POTUS would be a national catastrophe. Now, more than 8000 lies, countless international embarrassments and complete abdication of US leadership, a needless 35-day government shutdown, $2 trillion in useless debt, and most depressing, an unfolding, meticulously investigated trail, that seems increasingly to underscore the most stunning web of traitorous intrigue in our nation’s history later, the American people still can’t rely on the majority party in the US Senate to look past their next primary cycle. What’s that a wise old man once told me? Son, bad to worse is never a direction you want to travel. BC


Tough Choice

A woman had finally had enough of her nasty drunk of a husband. Problem was she lived in a state that required those seeking divorce to jump through ridiculous hoops placed by good Christian lawmakers bent on “preserving” the institution of marriage. So, despite having a protective order from the court, and being watched closely by detectives worried for her physical safety, the woman is forced to attend three couples counseling sessions before her divorce is allowed to proceed to the next level.

At the counseling session, the mediator asks the husband what he thinks needs to be done to save the marriage. He promptly recites a list of measures he’s prepared to take to make things work. No more drinking, go get a job, no more sleeping with other women, etc.. The counselor then turns to the woman and asks what she thinks of his long list of promises. She makes clear the ship on their marriage sailed the last time she spent the night in the hospital after one of his beatings. There’s nothing he can do at this point to change her mind. She finally has the strength and will to get out of this nightmare and she’s going to do it. The husband then jumps up snarling, fists clenched and looks at the therapist. “See, this is the damn problem; she’s just so unreasonable. She won’t even listen!”

Any critic of the George W Bush Presidency looking for credence to argue just how bad things were need only point out his chief speechwriter was Marc Thiessen. Fully beholden to Reagan glorification, even as he constantly employed the Gipper’s memory to add bona fides to policies that yielded results nobody would want their legacy anchored to, Thiessen, like his former colleague Michael Gerson, has carved out a career as a syndicated columnist. But where Gerson has taken the admirable road of calling a spade a spade where this Administration is concerned, refusing to allow whatever agreement that may exist on policy obviate Trump’s avalanche of lies, ignorance and overt corruption, Thiessen has become one of the Donald’s more articulate spin doctors, a low bar indeed.

Thiessen thrice weekly dedicates his pen in full unapologetic support of Trumpism. Like Hugh Hewitt, another member of what passes for the intelligentsia in the Fox/AM universe, Thiessen provides ivory tower normalization for all Trump imbecility. The government shutdown is no exception.

Thiessen maintains the President’s recent offer proves he’s “the adult in the room.” That’s akin to saying I’m the target market for a great new type of comb. Yet and still, it may almost be as credible as calling a 2000-mile plus eyesore, requiring eminent domain usurpation of thousands of land owners, necessary to national security. It’s a ridiculous idea, created solely to gin up a base of nativists with the stipulation they wouldn’t have to pay for it, and is now foisting economic hardship on 800,000 hard working government employees only because nasty Fox/AM mouthpieces wouldn’t allow the issue to pass… the better to fill vapid air time with. Thiessen paints Trump as the epitome of statesmanship, offering a win-win solution to yet another crisis he is solely responsible for creating. Accepting that premise is merely another step toward the ruin this Administration incessantly lurches toward.

Of course, as another round of paychecks now look likely to go by the wayside, the stakes get higher by the hour. The temptation to give Trump his wall, or at least take his offer seriously as a basis for further discussions, while reasonable, even compassionate, should be resisted for several well documented reasons.

The hardships government workers now suffer are compelling and impossible to ignore. However, while the principles Trump and his poodle, Mitch McConnell, point to as the grist of their obstinence are inventions hastily created to keep up with Trump’s knee jerk pandering to Limbaugh and Coulter et al. which began this mess, the importance of forcing him to eat the full serving of crow he deserves can’t be overstated. Allowing Trump to emerge from this episode with anything Thiessen’s ilk can spin as victory denies the nation a critical opportunity to clarify for a decisive majority of critical “undecideds” how dangerously inept government by Fox/AM is. Negotiations about the wall are fine, but the government reopens right now. That has to be the first, last and always position.

Thiessen and the Trumpie braintrust will continue to provide false credibility to this President no matter how lazy, aloof and disdainful of actual governance he remains. At every turn of the immigration “crisis” Trump dreamed up when he announced his candidacy to people actually paid to cheer him, he has acted in the worst faith. Trump’s word is very close to worthless and nothing he agrees to now can be relied on later. Once any deal is reached with a DACA component the extremists will begin constant carping, and Trump will surely stew over their tweets. What he then does as bigots in his base threaten desertion, and Mueller’s noose tightens, is anybody’s guess.

Who really believes he can be trusted to keep his word? Or not concoct some sort of nasty mischief to redeem himself in their eyes? The only lesson he will have learned is closing the government works. Maybe the next time he’ll use the debt ceiling. GOP invertebrates will have learned backing him is still relatively painless; why wouldn’t they back him again? Giving Trump anything but total defeat will only make him more reckless. Megalomaniacs never consider what they did wrong, only what sycophants exude they did the best. Nothing good can come of it. The same employees now getting stiffed will live in fear it can happen again at any time, hostage to a paycheck to paycheck existence. You don’t deal with terrorists because they’ll only continue to terrorize you.

This POTUS has lied more than 8000 times since taking an oath he never meant to honor. This shutdown is based on nothing more than one subset of those fictions. Allowing him to create such needless suffering for no other reason than his cowardly embrace of right wing extremists, whose support he will likely employ to create yet another crisis when held to account for his criminal malfeasance, hurts the nation and will only further embolden him to act again counter to the national interest. When that inevitability plays out, Thiessen will be at it again, pretending this is a real President with a real policy agenda. Far better to nip it in the bud this time than have to relive it all over. BC


Bricks In The Wall

When I was in high school there was a place called “Father’s Hill” on the sprawling property of a Catholic school near my house. Father’s Hill was perfect for sledding, and for several years a very well kept secret. When the snow iced over, the ample descent provided as fast and long a ride as any incline in the area, providing hours of fun for a select group of neighborhood kids. Indeed it seldom had more than a dozen people enjoying it at any one time. Alas, it was too good a thing to stay under wraps, eventually word got out and the crowds came.

One significant stretch of winter weather in 1977 served to move Father’s Hill front and center as the spot to see and be seen among Winston Churchill High’s student body. One particular canceled school day there may have been a couple hundred kids on the grounds, reflecting a who’s who of the social food chain, many more interested in spleefs and Budweisers than sledding.

Father’s Hill abutted Bradley Boulevard, a well traveled road, and it was only a matter of time before somebody decided it would be fun to throw snowballs at passing traffic. What started as sporadic bombs thrown from longer distances quickly morphed into multiple attacks launched by a teenage mob from no more than 15 yards away, pounding vehicles with damaging force. Of course the owners of the cars were incensed by the brazenness of the pelting, and several got out to confront the growing group of rowdies, but faced with a tribe straight from Lord of the Flies, each member looking to outdo others and impress the sizable female contingent watching and taking note, thought better of it and retreated back to their vehicles surely convinced the nation’s future was not promising.

I now confess to being one of the first involved in the event. Not interested in sharing my hill with so many, I joined a group of cohorts intent on getting high and gazing at girls I wouldn’t have the courage to approach. We were perhaps 25 yards from the road, sheltered some in a small glen. Our accuracy rate was low and the odd strike was only once significant enough for a car to even slow its journey. This changed when a buddy launched a softball-sized bullet he had been packing for a while and scored a direct hit on a windshield. The car screeched to a halt and a middle-aged man, ahead of the obesity epidemic’s curve, got out and started screaming at nobody in particular. He couldn’t tell where the strike had originated, and after a couple of minutes of futilely looking for a culprit left the scene. Everybody laughed, and we received some momentary noteriety, however the episode announced to all there was a new game… and the biggest and most fearsome of my peers decided they wanted to play.

There is an apocalyptic feel to a large mob of lawless teenagers fully bent on breaching the constraints of society. The spectacle that evolved quickly that day at Father’s Hill was frightening. A couple of dozen well-to-do suburban teens pummeling cars from point blank range, daring the bravehearts with the courage to get out and challenge them. Although I was a party to starting the affair, I wanted nothing to do with what it had become. And as I watched with a crowd from a distance, mesmerized by its ferocity and sizing up my escape from cops who were sure to arrive at some point, I was seized by the horror of a sudden realization; my father took this exact route home from work, and he very well may be coming home early since it was a snow day!!

Nausea quickly enveloped me. Whatever common sense previous victims of this riot were displaying, I knew my dad would not recognize such limitations. The thought of my father confronting the group of hyenas assembled at that moment buckled my knees. He would likely do what he had always done throughout my life when engaged in confrontation: size things up and slowly remove his glasses, his face transformed to a strange blankness, like a shark ready to chomp something. The image made me lightheaded. What to do?! Should I stay and monitor things, interceding when I saw his car coming, hoping pleas it was my father would grant special dispensation? The humiliation of that option quickly eliminated it. Maybe I could go down Bradley Boulevard and pretend to hitchhike, waiting for him to drive by and then plead with him to turn around and take another route home. That strategy was abandoned because, knowing my father, he would want to assess exactly what was going on, a worst case scenario. Maybe he hasn’t left the office yet I reassured myself! I decided to go home and try to call him. If he hadn’t yet departed there was nothing to worry about.

My father’s secretary, Mary, had the world’s most pleasant disposition, yet her cheerful confirmation that my father had left his Georgetown office “oh, maybe 20 minutes ago” sent dread through me. Such timing had him on a collision course with disasterous peril. My mind raced. Should I run back and await the worst? Perhaps it wasn’t too late to employ the hitchhiking plan. Everything was jumbled, nothing seemed constructive. So I merely sat on the living room couch mindlessly watching a syndicated rerun of some kind and did what always came naturally as a last resort… prayed.

In between Hail Marys I pondered the situation and understood I no longer cared about any social abasement I may suffer. Screw those assholes, this was my dad God damn it! My mind’s eye had him taking shots from the nastiest of the mob’s ruffians, going down as others joined in. Just as I was certain the worst would happen, and got up to head back to Father’s Hill, my dad’s white Chevy Nova coasted down our driveway and disappeared into the garage. I took a deep breath and rushed downstairs to meet my father at the basement door, half expecting him to look bruised and battered. He walked through the doorway looking no worse for the wear, curtly informing me my earlier efforts at shoveling the driveway were “halfassed.” I exhaled in blessed relief and actually hugged him! Now he was worried and asked what was wrong? Was everybody alright? Yes, I exclaimed, everyone was fine. I casually asked if he saw the big crowd at Father’s Hill. No, he responded, he had taken the back route to avoid traffic. As always, my prayers came through.

It’s doubtful the boys from Kentucky captured for all-time having fun at the expense of Native American elder Nathan Phillips and others faced any similar predicament, and they were certainly not the destructive posse of punks trouncing the envelope at Father’s Hill more than 40 years ago, but they were a mob nonetheless. In fact, watching the video, which now is the subject of competing interpretations as the culture war and Fox/AM intercede to set the record straight, a woman onlooker can be clearly heard telling the boys they are behaving like a mob.

Partisans for the Catholic boys want it known Black Israelites started the whole thing, taunting the kids as they awaited their buses. Yet and still, regardless of who may have riled them up, the video clearly shows a large group of boys unconcerned with anything other than joining in with their peers and anatogonizing an outnumbered group of passive Native Americans with tropes void of any other usefulness. The clear image of so many kids unifying around nasty chants meant to proudly underscore the MAGA bigotry which nobody can doubt informed their actions should be as troubling to watch as my unhinged schoolmates were that day long ago.

When groupthink fully eliminates individual judgement and the will to deviate from shared behavior at odds with common decency, a major problem exists. Unlike truly senseless behavior 40 years ago, which no parent would condone or seek to revise in a brighter light, this weekend’s antics will continue to be debated; the Kentucky boys actually appear headed toward Fox/AM martyrdom, the innocent victims of an unquenchable appetite by fake news to villianize any who proudly support Trump. The sad reality is those kids were behaving no differently from so many adults they have observed at Trump rallies since his campaign began, becoming a mob unified against any and all different from themselves. MAGA’s children. BC


No Good Deed

Up is down. Black is White. East is West. This is what government by nihilist decree does to reality as it carves out space for visceral measures supported for what they destroy rather than create. When…. if this Administration is driven from the scene it will be as if a hurricane finally passed; there will be only assessments of damages, nothing it wrecked will be anything more than destroyed vestiges of what existed before the disaster occurred.

There is a reason “Post-War” usually precedes descriptions of life after a devastating conflagration. Most of what guided routines before the cataclysm is unrecognizable after the event occurred. The choice in America now is whether our institutions, and those we entrust to run them, are capable of moving swiftly enough to preserve what our current pestilence is actively obliterating.

Everything the Trump White House pursues is done with the assumption it has a mandate to destroy what was created and nurtured before it arrived on the scene. The EPA, pollution standards, Global Climate Change initiatives, NAFTA, TPP, NATO, Civil Rights, Human Rights, the UN, Public Schools, the State Department, respect for journalism, respect for the FBI and Intelligence communities, post Great Recession consumer and financial protections… the list is endless. Virtually the whole of what he inherited to supervise, Trump has attacked with the fervor of one looking to raze all before him, Godzilla in Tokyo.

Was this what the majority of Americans wanted, demanded? Of course not. This agenda was slurred out at MAGA rallies in between assurances the system was rigged, his election prospects doomed. That GOP Senators facilitated a list of Cabinet nominees fully nefarious in their intentions toward the agencies they were selected to run, clarifies so much more than a breathtaking failure of leadership, it reveals a disdain for the public trust that’s meant to primarily inform their actions. Now Republicans appear fully subservient to a President reeling from one bombshell revelation about his corruption after another. As the noose tightens there is little doubt he will foist additional demands on the party he has thus far bullied to his liking, gift wrapped as litmus tests for devotion to conservative principles. Anything less than full support will surely be equated with betrayal.

Writer David Ignatius, reacting to the recent attack in Syria that claimed four Americans among the victims, contrasted the targeted town of Mabij before and after ISIS was driven away, which is another way of pointing out what was normal before ISIS ever got there. Instead of only black, women could dress in bright colors. Where there was nothing but tense anticipation of sweeps targeting all who acted in the myriad of manners forbidden by the fanatics, streets returned to the vibrant meeting places they had been, diversity no longer a crime punishable, as almost all ISIS-enforced offenses, by death. Ignatius’ point was to highlight the mission behind the presence of 2000 US special forces operators on the ground there, hastily withdrawn by Trump against the advise of virtually the entire national security community.

No sane person would equate the Trump Administration with ISIS, that would rightly discredit whatever they had to say. Yet and still, the image of a domestic and international community, far from perfect, but in active accordance on a cross-section of critical challenges, imbued with numerous programs guided by ambitious and hopeful mission statements, suddenly faced with the specter of new leadership ignorantly disdainful of their very existence, and willing to actively subvert the basic goals they were set up to pursue, is tragically appropriate. Trumpism has been nothing but a black cloud on progress and cooperation, a catastrophic tsunami of nihilist malevolence, foisted on anything that existed prior to its arrival. The consequences already are frightening.

On the campaign stump Trump had zero policy specifics. His wretched core was fine with that, resentment and grievance can be conveyed just fine with broad strokes. More than anything else, Trump sold an image of a doer, a human bulldozer ready to remove any obstacles to his MAGA inclinations. His way was the only way, and taking his word for it was just going to have to do because, well, look at the alternative. Incredibly, unfathomably, we elected the lowest common denominator based on his dystopian ramblings that things could only get worse if his opponent won.

Example A of nihilism on parade is Andrew Wheeler, the President’s selection to replace disgraced former EPA Chief Scott Pruitt, whose overt corruption exceeded even Trump’s bottom basement standards. The former coal lobbyist appeared confident this week his confirmation hearings were strictly pro forma. In fact, astoundingly, he exclaimed to a rightly incensed Edward Markey (D-MA) that he hadn’t yet felt it necessary to peruse a US government report warning of dire economic damage associated with the Climate Change neither Wheeler or his boss feel is too pressing a concern. Since the report came out in November, Markey was a bit incredulous Wheeler had yet to so much as glance at it. Wheeler, who’s a dead ringer for an age progression of Beevus, seemed smug enduring Markey’s criticism…. like a guy who understood it was already a done deal.

Of course, with the Senate’s current make up, for Wheeler to enjoy such confidence he’d have to be sure vacation state Republicans like Susan Collins (ME), Lisa Murkowski and Cory Gardner (CO), not to mention hurricane alley Senators Marco Rubio (FL) and Rick Scott (FL) were reliable yeas. Astonishingly, this group seems more willing to approve Wheeler than they were Pruitt, even though he was Pruitt’s dutiful deputy, and voices even more unequivocal animus toward the agency’s basic mandate, if that’s possible. It’s hard to think of states who benefit more from robust EPA oversight than Maine, Colorado or Alaska. Nor is any state in the union more in the crosshairs of elevated sea level distress than Florida. But the existential interests of the states they represent still don’t carry the day in this GOP. Seems a promise to keep his head down and not bathe publicly in the swamp like his predecessor is all that is required to sail through on Republican majority wings.

Willful destruction requires more than the vapid decrees of one inept man, it’s a team effort. At each turn this Administration’s intentions to stomp on every sand castle in its path have been abetted by a fully complicit GOP. Those billowing black clouds in the sky you see aren’t simply soot and pollutants liberated by relaxed air quality standards, they’re also the figurative menace Trump and his enablers continue to represent to most anything constructive. BC