Low Ball

Along the Texas border with Mexico there is a rich history of frontier pioneers, who carved out space in spite of many obstacles. Mexican bandits, Native American tribes uninterested in having their land stolen, harsh weather extremes, tough topography, and simple isolation made ranching in the southern reaches of the Lone Star a very tough ride indeed.

Generations later, the descendants of Texan grit now face an interloper they may not be able to fend off – the US Government. Unlike New Mexico and Arizona, much of the Texas border land Trump’s Sinclairian vision has seen fit to facilitate “the Wall” is privately owned by families who can trace their deeds back generations. Eminent domain, the very rare subject that this President actually does know a good bit about, will be required to free up hundreds of miles of land earmarked to oblige Trumpism’s xenophobia.

Most of the land’s owners are like Fred Cavasos, whose family has ranched 77 lonely acres in the Rio Grande Valley for generations. He has been served notice that the plan is to literally run the wall through the middle of his holdings, fully cutting off his operation from the river’s lifeblood, essentially making his tract impossible to farm or ranch, worthless to any buyer. His pro bono lawyer says he has exactly two choices: sell his birthright at roughly market price to the government; or head to court for a long and costly fight he’ll surely be unable to wage for very long… Donald Trump’s wheelhouse. A deal one can’t refuse.

Hearing the President talk about eminent domain the other day was like listening to a chef talk about a favorite cut of meat; it was clearly a subject close to his heart, and unlike the galaxy of other topics he spews nothing but guff about, Trump spoke with the comfortable cadence of one with experience in the matter at hand. Suddenly, the guy elected to turn America’s energy future back to coal mines, its trade practices back to Smoot-Hartley of the early 30s, and how White America views minorities back to the good old days of Jim Crow, was expounding on the pivotal role land seizure plays in the nation’s progress. Yet and still, no one can deny the Donald knows eminent domain in all its nasty particulars.

Vera Coking of Atlantic City, NJ can attest to Trump’s bona fides when it comes to seizing land with the help of lawyers on retainer and the state. In 1993, looking to pave Coking’s land to create a parking lot for the limousines of high roller patrons of his casino next door, Trump offered $251,000 for the property. Near 20 years earlier, Penthouse Magazine owner, Bob Guccione, himself looking to create a posh hotel on the property, had offered Coking more than $1 million to sell. She accepted neither offer, but Trump wasn’t taking no for an answer. Along with the Casino Reinvestment Development Authority (CRDA), government suits no doubt paid off to play ball, Trump moved to evict Coking and doze her property for a song. Lucky for her the non-profit Institute for Justice took on her case and beat back the bully in court. Her case was but one of many court dockets entertained during Trump’s ugly business career. Lesson one from his primary mentor, the reviled Roy Cohn, sue often. When in doubt, litigate… then stiff the firm who represented you.

Of course in the GOP of old – read pre-Trump – eminent domain was the ultimate boogie man of DC’s Evil Empire. From principled Burkian conservatives to Paul libertarians to pro-Cliven Bundy militia kooks, all agreed private land ownership was sacred. Many a Hannity screed was dedicated to the martyrdom such federal overreach bestowed. Seems stemming the MS-13 hordes has forced some trade-offs. Funny how unhinged bigotry tends to render other principles less paramount. C’mon guys, take one for the team.

Will Hurd is a Republican Congressman representing a district that holds 825 miles of the southern border, and a vociferous opponent of Trump’s Wall. A former CIA agent, Hurd produces facts instead of fear when discussing the President’s signature issue. Hurd deems a physical wall “the least effective way to provide border security.” Asked about alternatives, he provides a long list of cutting edge ideas, everything from driverless vehicles to facial recognition software, drones to advanced radar. A wall, avers Hurd, is less than useless, actually counterproductive to the task, two expensive steps backward at the cost of fundamental property rights conservatives are supposed to value.

Two years into the Trump Presidency it is abundantly clear he holds traditional conservative principles in the same regard as most everything else that requires prudence and any degree of insight. Right now, just like an elderly Atlantic City widow, Texas landowners along the border are in his way, only now he has the Department of Justice to do the legal dirty work. As an increasing number of border residents declare “no sale,” sustained court battles appear to lay on the horizon, possibly leading all the way to the Supreme Court this President boasts about packing. Like everything else about the idiocy Trump promised his wretched core would be paid for by Mexico, all of it will likely add up to nothing but wasted time and needless stress, expensive futility caused only by a nihilist’s campaign centerpiece he hoped his supporters would forget.

Just as 800,000 on furlough, and millions of immigrants, who overstayed their visas looking for the dream we swore was possible, now scared out of their wits, driving 20 miles an hour below the speed limit so they won’t get pulled over and have their lives upended, Texas border ranchers are paying the price for a civic disaster many of them had a hand in creating. Some lessons are more expensive than others. BC

Laughable Peril

The most dangerous aspect of the Trump Presidency is its relentless inanity. Every day the nation is treated to something that doesn’t seem to matter past its exemplification as an outrageous and inappropriate offshoot of our goofball-in-chief’s vapidity. Enough time passes and we completely forget last month’s insult because several new indiscretions now occupy our attention.

Yet and still, the US Presidency is nothing if not a cumulative affair. The parts always add up to a sum that impacts the nation’s present and future. What we forget when our attention turns to something else is nonetheless what we will have to deal with. It’s not simply coincidence that the US Government through the decades has leaned heavily on continuity and established best practices; radical change throws things askew, beauracracies are not nimble creatures. Just because a bloc of US voters have convinced themselves of government’s futility doesn’t mean they don’t rely on it as much as the rest of us. Today we are seeing the damage of a thousand cuts, presented daily as nothing more than another example of Trump’s ineptitude. Ruin isn’t always a tsunami.

Two years ago Trump visited the CIA and mused about looting Iraqi oil. Afterward, CNN’s panelists were visibly shaken, needing a few minutes to collect their thoughts in order to do their jobs, such was the dichotomy between what the just inaugurated President was spewing and the public demeanor of all of his predecessors. More than 7000 outright lies later similar rants now produce yawns and shoulder shrugs, maybe a joke or two. What’s new and alarming eventually becomes worn and boring. How can the damage be crystalized any clearer than the simple proposition that virtually every day this President says or tweets something that, until his inauguration, would have mired a predecessor in debilitating controversy and scandal?

There has never been satisfaction accrued chronicling authoritarians. History always shows them to be inept, their whims mostly trite, usually laughable if not so destructive; they are jokes until they start hurting people. Any loyal Colbert viewer surely knows this to be true with Trump. In fact, we can all go to bed most every night and thank the Lord he remains way too lazy and uninspired to be much of anything effective, including an autocrat. But withstanding his endlessly inept malfeascence is still going to leave scars, not to mention the imminent danger his wretched core will quickly coalesce behind an heir to his disdain for pluralism. After all, Fox/AM isn’t going anywhere.

Both China and Russia have been strengthened substantially in the last two years, each moving to fill vacuums Trump’s reckless retreat from world leadership has provided. Worse, regardless how devoted a new Administration may be in repairing the damage, many of the bridges will be burned, at least for the time being, and we will be on the sidelines. Somebody leases a copier from you for 20 years, but then goes with a competitor because you ignored them or left the scene for awhile, even if they are willing to give you their business again, it’s going to have to wait until they need another copier. Two or four, or God help us, eight years of demeaning and alienating our customer base will have consequences a change in attitude/policy will be inadequate to quickly fix.

American soybean farmers are already getting punched in the nose by that reality. Ditto construction interests, as well as transportation concerns. As of August “Tariff Man’s” visceral trade impulses impacted 1097 products across a vital cross section of American business. In markets where the line between profitability and red ink was already mere percentage points, 15-25 % cost increases are unsustainable. The case load at Commerce for exemptions is now overwhelming and growing. Where is the tipping point that will signal an economy in crisis? All agree it’s close and quickly getting closer.

Which brings us to tonight’s 7-minute nationally televised distraction. Figuring out Trump’s purposes is like understanding my grandmother during her addled final couple of years. Residing with my parents in Maine, she kept reminding me on the hour whenever we visited that she would be accompanying us back to Virginia to again take up residence in the home she had sold more than 10 years before. The facts have nothing to do with it.

There is no crisis at our southern border; that’s a fact… like the sun rising in the east. Most undocumented residents simply overstay their visas. Most drugs come in through established checkpoints or through the air. Zero terrorists have been apprehended at the southern border. Central American immigrants come here seeking asylum at recognized points of entry. What we are bound to hear this evening is just another plethora of falsehoods this Administration has fully based its agenda on since it came into office, the Fox/AM narrative its wretched core expects it to adhere to, consummated nightly by its prime time line up. It’s Hannity inanity, manufactured chaos for addled minds wishing to return home to the America they glimpsed as kids, before failures they blame on everybody else.

Of course the world is watching. And while we may exude an uncanny willingness to digest and then forget every senseless indignity or counterproductive policy edict foisted by a President less concerned with the national interest than his hour-to-hour enemies list, our adversaries take notes, and the results do not simply evaporate. As tiresome as the record has become, as stifling the ennui of calling this spade a spade now feels, that doesn’t augment the damage we are absorbing. Frogs basking in a gradually warming pot and all that. As ever in the Trump era, the real crisis comes from the White House and a President not to be trusted, whose word is synonymous with deceit…. and derrières inhabiting flyover state recliners, who will furiously nod in agreement when regular programming is interrupted. BC

No Touch

As a high school senior I took a typing class as an elective with hopes it would provide some relief to my abysmal GPA. This was 1977 so the typewriters used for instruction were manual monstrosities not given to forgiving the clumsy fingers of a distracted teenager. But the real obstacles to success were my attitude and scheduling. I couldn’t have cared less about improving my typing skills, and the tedium of the exercise quickly consumed any previous ambitions to boost my numbers. Worse, the class was during 5th period, right after lunch.

Lunch hour at Churchill High School in the pre “war on drugs” days, like any other respite, was wholly devoted to smoking as many bowls of whatever the market made available as time and privacy would allow. While dazed and confused made other classes simply challenges to basic cognition, improving my typing skills through what I seem to recall was deemed the “touch system” taught in Ms. Jewell’s class constituted a bridge way too far. Larry, a diligent classmate assigned the typewriter next to mine, was a very nice guy, as well as both sober and reasonably motivated not to waste the hour each day. He would provide the metric for my inane futility.

The grading structure was as fair as it was simple and straightforward. The first day of the class we were given a few paragraphs to practice, and at the end of the day were timed for several minutes to establish a baseline for our speed and competence. I clocked in at a wretched 14 words per minute with plenty of errors. Larry scored 18 words per minute, and seemed dissatisfied with the effort. Thus, our baselines established, the rest of the semester was given to transforming us from hunt and peckers to masters of the touch system. The beauty of it was nothing could be fudged or BS’d, final grades would wholly reflect how much the number improved by term’s end.

As the semester progressed I couldn’t help but notice, on the occasions I actually made it to class – skipping classes was a preferred activity – Larry’s diligence at the keyboard. He seemed content to tackle the paragraphs Ms. Jewell distributed each day, always emphasizing different words meant to stress various letter combinations designed to enhance touch system dexterity. Larry was clearly gaining both ability and confidence as the weeks passed, his determination never appearing to wane. Me, I was usually all out not to doze, and never gave the touch system much of a go, hunt and peck ruled my 5th periods to the end.

Unfortunately for my quest to enhance my scholastic bona fides, the final typing test which would determine our grade for the semester happened to coincide with a friend coming into a significant quantity of black Pakistani hash. He was generous and I was not near at the top of my game as Ms. Jewell passed out the test sheets. Larry looked ready to excel, his fingers laid confidently across the keys. Honestly, I could have been straight as a guardrail and still embarrassed myself. The old touch system and I just never jelled, my indifference to anything about the whole endeavor dooming any prospect of synergy from the start.

Ms. Jewell was an attractive yet severe woman, who had a curt way of talking that made one disdain the language. It was as if she knew whatever she had to say was not compelling and getting the whole thing over with quicker was for the best. “Class get ready… and type” was the standard instruction for typing tests. This was the big one. I glanced over at Larry and he looked like a secretary, his fingers like Liberace on the antiquated keys. Sensing imminent massive failure, I began furiously hunting and pecking, my eyes shifting to the test copy as my addled brain tried vainly to memorize chunks of text for transcription. Of course “time!” came way too fast, and a gaze at my sorry production confirmed the worst. Larry looked pleased with his effort, a near full sheet of single-spaced verbiage before him. He glanced at my wreckage with what seemed an amused eye. A semester’s worth of chickens were home to roost. I felt like crap. My lord, I couldn’t even cut it in typing class… a hard lifetime of road construction crews lay before me.

The final numbers confirmed the obvious. Larry, who I assume received the “A” I originally coveted, clocked in at 62 words per minute! Whatever career he was headed toward, he now possessed typing abilities that would assist his progress. My final number was…. 12 words per minute. I had actually regressed. God does have a sense of humor, and I eventually cultivated an abiding interest in political science and journalism as college pursuits. Hunt and pecking became a bane of my existence as I sought to finish term papers, essays and articles late into the night, clumsily transcribing notes and research to finished copy. At the end of the day, Ms. Jewell’s typing class clarified a life lesson as basic as it was valuable: effort determines success, and attitude dictates effort. Moronic indifference to improvement guarantees failure… common sense stuff even a stoner teen can grasp.

These memories flooded back yesterday as I watched our President preside over his now trademark version of a cabinet meeting. Now two years in not a thing has changed – read improved – since the first kabukifest he chaired in early 2017. The rambling, unhinged opening monologue, the bogus figures, recited with the casual insincerity liars always exhibit, a conference table full of sycophants forcing smiles and abasing themselves as they heap false flattery on a boss who constantly demands such prostrations. Trump, arms tightly crossed against his ever expanding torso, eyes glazing over at anything not presented in line with his narcisstic sensibilities. But most of all the transparent uselessness of the whole exercise, the overt waste of time and taxpayer expense the whole charade embodies. Nothing has progressed an iota. A President clarifying, after two full years, his utter disdain for learning to better do the job he was entrusted with… to become more than a hunt and pecker, hopelessly flailing at the mid term.

The attitude Trump brought to his Inaguration was no better than mine when I headed to 5th period typing. Each doomed us to failure. The difference, tragic for our country and the world, is I allowed my failure to inform me and ultimately improve my future disposition. Trump is way too old a mutt to learn any new tricks. His disdain for the Presidency’s requisites will be just as great the day he is forced from the White House grounds as the moment he was given the keys to the castle. That’s a certainty. We are stuck with 12 words per minute. BC

Pliable Certainties

Serious horse players spend a lot of time looking for excuses. Seldom will a race go by that a handicapper isn’t forced to assess a sub par performance by a horse that may otherwise be an attractive wager. Indeed, much of what shapes a bettor’s perceptions of any particular race comes from reasons to look past failures in the previous running lines of horses that, without the benefit of such creative excuses, would be labeled pretenders and tossed immediately.

Missteps out of the gate, wide trips, off tracks, fractious pre-race behavior, too hot, too cold, not enough pace in the race, too much pace in the race… the list is endless, limited only by one’s imagination. Once, years ago, I was at Laurel Racecourse discussing the entries for an upcoming allowance race with an old timer, who spent every day doing what he loved the most, losing money at the track. I was high on a particular four-year old named Prince Stanley, who I had been chasing for several races, excusing one out-of-the-money effort after another. The wise old man asked incredulously what about my selection could possibly appeal to me. I responded with earnest the colt had now run on dead rails three straight times and his odds were double digits. My friend looked seriously at me over his glasses and said simply: “… a horse finds trouble more than once in a while, he brings it with him, and big odds don’t make him run any faster.” Plenty inside the DC beltway pay consultants good money for wisdom not near as profitable. Of course I listened to none of it and was tearing up my tickets as Prince Stanley finished with interest to grab fourth after having to check and alter course, assuring I would probably misplace my faith in him yet again. It’s important to note here this tendency works the other way as well, with short-priced favorites put up to scrutiny, every effort made to diminish their past victories as part of an effort to embolden taking a stand against them. Either way, racetrack school is an expensive education, and nobody is spared the expense.

Andrew Beyer is one of horse racing’s most articulate proponents, and the Washington Post resident handicapper for decades until the position was eliminated due to the general public’s growing disinterest in the sport. He once quipped had he spent as many hours reading law books as the DRF Past Performances he would have been picked to the Supreme Court. Amen brother.

Beyer’s enduring contribution to the sport are “speed figures,” actually trademarked in his name, meant to quantify a horse’s standing with a single inarguable number time itself produces free of most subjective vagueries, excuses be damned! Yet and still, in 2002, when a horse named War Emblem produced a 112 figure in the Illinois Derby three weeks before the Kentucky Derby, which was head and shoulders above the rest of the field, Beyer’s fealty to his own gospel was put to the test.

Here it was on a silver platter; finally, a horse sure to be long odds, exhibiting an overwhelming edge over 17 other entrants based on the analytical model Beyer himself had developed. Not only was his method going to be showcased, he was going to get rich while it happened. Only one problem… Beyer couldn’t get himself to believe his own methodology. War Emblem had never run anything approaching a 112 before the race in Illinois. So Beyer set out to convince himself it was a fluke. Surely there had to be extenuating circumstances. Souped up track, the colt was left all alone on the lead, a short home stretch, a host of reasons to doubt the speed figure War Emblem produced. By the time they went postward on the first Saturday in May, Beyer had convinced himself the winner of Derby 128 was going to be Essence of Dubai, a prospect with powerful Middle Eastern connections but no recent Beyer figure to consider because he had prepped for the race in Dubai, a long and thus far futile route to take to Louisville. After a week of talking himself off the horse his own unique handicapping process pinpointed as a major standout, finding any excuse possible to undermine his own conclusions, Beyer ended up siding with an animal his metrics couldn’t even assess, prepping for the race in a fashion that had never yet succeeded.

War Emblem grabbed the lead right out of the gate, jockey Victor Espinoza setting an aggressive but sensible pace, and never looked back, winning the roses in a scintillating 2:01. A $2 bet returned $43 to those who put their faith in Beyer speed figures. Essence of Dubai is still running, and he burned all of Beyer’s money, leaving him to explain in his post-race column how he, not only ignored, but actively sabatoged, one of the greatest opportunities his handicapping system ever presented him. To add salt to the wound he spent the two-week run up to the Preakness finding more reasons why War Emblem was fortunate in Louisville and may have trouble in Baltimore. War Emblem paid $7.60 after jogging home to win the Preakness. Beyer’s disgrace was complete.

What’s the moral to all of this, past the utility of heeding a very very wise man’s advice that “a passion for golf and horse racing will leave one most always pissed off?” It’s simply this: believe what you see and what people say because once that no longer suffices as one’s primary filter all bets are off. Reality, and our own ability to process what unwinds before us, is its own most powerful argument.

As we depart 2018, a year the POTUS told more than 5000 certain and verifiable lies, we’d do well to spend more time embracing the tangible and less time searching for reasons to doubt it. Last year can aptly be called the year of the gaslight, when ridiculous explanations, pronounced with enough certainty, exclipsed realities on full view, recorded for all to see and hear, and fully informed large blocs of citizens determined to give full sway to cognitive biases that only reinforced beliefs in the best of their champions, even as events unfolded to provide them otherwise documented proof of their worst.

Unhinged cops mercilessly beating and shooting unarmed suspects… fully recorded, then vigorously defended by legions of commenters imploring the assailents be given a benefit of the doubt only possible by refusing to accept what was established public record. Not just rare and isolated incidents, but repeated and ugly examples of brutality.

Mass shootings, carried out with military grade weaponry, only to time and again be classified as aberrations perpetrated by outliers, the killing device irrelevant. A preposterous proposition put forward by whole swaths of lawmakers and commentators that vague intentions of the founding fathers should obviate repeated slaughter. The notion that arming teachers is more viable than banning weapons Ronald Reagan declared dangers to public well being.

Kellyanne Conway ad nauseum delivering shameless “alternative facts” in order to make more palatable Trump’s daily assaults on reason and decency, even as Andrew Cuomo somehow allows that there is actually something worth debating.

Legions of ridiculous GOP lawmakers contorting to make sense of White House statements and tweets that often directly contradict what was said during the previous news cycle. Sarah Huckabee Sanders, ever the loyal liar, staring askew at reporters reading word for word statements she just denied were actually said. “No, the President didn’t mean he would own a shutdown; that’s not what I heard!”

We appear to be fast approaching a “post-reality” existence, where the five senses are under fire as reliable gauges of truth and actuality. I suppose that means our reliance on narratives spoon fed by TV and radio producers, not to mention internet content providers, has eclipsed basic human instincts, shading everything, even what we witness in the clearest, most direct terms in favor of pondering explanations the storyline is capable of accepting.

In other words, our President may soon actually be able to go out on 5th Avenue and shoot somebody, only to merely spark debate on CNN, old Kellyanne imploring us to keep an open mind and beseeching the MSM to stick to stories Americans really care about. Of course, that’s a day to dread because when it arrives odds America will remain a going democratic concern will be long indeed, and no manner of creative handicapping will make it a good bet. Make 2019 the year of what’s obvious. BC

Fat Lady In The House

The Immigration Reform and Control Act of 1986, better known as Simpson-Mizzoli for its Senate and House authors, was a fully bipartisan piece of legislation. Authored by a Kentucky Democrat in the House and a Wyoming Republican in the Senate, The bill passed with solid majorities in both chambers and was dutifully signed by Ronald Reagan. It offered a path to citizenship for 2.7 million undocumented immigrants, while promising stiff penalties to employers who knowingly hired workers without credentials. Previously underground residents who had been in the US since before 1982 were given legal status, subject to payment of a fine, back taxes and a criminal background check. Moreover, agricultural workers and other seasonal employees depended on by various industries were granted legal status as well, in line with their employment routines. In other words the law reflected a wide variety of viewpoints and interests, and at the end of the day demonstrated the critical utility of compromise to address a complicated problem. By no means perfect – it kicked concerns about future immigrants overstaying their visas, which haunt us to this day, down the road – the law still represented the type of good faith efforts from both sides of the aisle now unimaginable by the most ardent optimist.

Indeed, Simpson-Mazzoli is an apt point of departure to consider just how deep we have sunk in our ability to govern ourselves. It also illustrates how dishonest the Fox/AM driven narrative that today’s GOP/conservative priorities are driven by fidelity to the Reagan Revolution, and how disingenuous it is to constantly brandish his sensibilities on the full range of challenges the country faces. Nothing lurches further from the truth, and to accept such nonsense merely exhibits either woeful ignorance or overt dishonesty. As the current government shutdown extends into its second week, Simpson-Mazzoli might as well have been a hundred years ago, so currently AWOL are the essential variables that made it possible.

It’s a safe bet Reagan, like the other former Presidents who survive him, would have loathed Trump. The simpering braggadocio, the parchment skin and juvenile attacks on opponents, the constant stream of lies; but most of all Reagan would have despised the Donald’s insincerity, his total refusal to proceed with any set of convictions past his own self-adulation. Of course, it was always absurd that Reagan, who limped away from his second term near completely addled by the dementia clinically diagnosed just a couple of years later, and a full blown scandal he never cleared up, would be canonized as the past glory and future light of the GOP. Yet and still, it is certain whatever qualities the Republican faithful embraced in him are not offered by Trump in even trace amounts. Like most all surrounding the GOP’s deification of Reagan in the first place, it’s all a figment of Rush and Mark Levin’s imagination, an expedient lie evolved by the necessity a scarcity of alternatives creates. After all, “the party of Reagan” sounds a lot better than the “party of Cheney” or “the party of Jesse Helms!”

Common sense dictates any organization’s best plan for strengthening itself focuses on increasing membership. Surely nothing Reagan ever said publicly about the GOP’s prospects took issue with a “big tent” approach to Republican vitality. Trump’s tweetstorms, spun and refined by Fox/AM’s endless parade of LifeLock hawkers, reflects a 180 degree different set of priorities. The lion’s share of air time revolves around who isn’t fit for membership in their exclusive club. When all is said and done, only Christian evangelicals in the Robert Jeffrees mode, NRA and Pro-Life fanatics, blue collar opponents of all things government, not to mention political correctness (read bigots), and unapologetic high income job creators need apply. Everyone else can exchange happy holiday greetings and go jump in a coal-slurried creek. It’s not a tent, it’s a lean to… and space is limited.

That nobody in this Ingrahamian orbit seems to understand and/or care that the President visits this well of wretched grievance on the hour only because his political survival, indeed even personal freedom, depends on it, and not due to a whiff of allegiance for the health of either the GOP or nation, only reinforces its self-destructive insularity. Parties in thrall of the likes of Steve King, Jim Jordon and Louie Gohmert don’t reflect much on motives or even false purposes, they simply want to know others are as whack as they are; as the song noted, feeling good is good enough.

Where this leads has more to do with how far the rest of us tolerate the daily malice emanating from a party in full descent. American politics is defined within a Blue said/Red said paradigm. This grants credibility to whatever is produced for no other reason than it requires a response, and once that response is given, the statement it parried is legitimized as worthy of an answer. Nothing can simply be ignored as beneath attention, or not up to snuff for discussion. Thus, more than 7000 Trump lies are addressed, which provides enough credibility for plenty of people to dispute they were lies in the first place… Catch-22 for the meme age!

It currently seems clear Republicans have no idea how to confront the affliction they suffer. Right now they appear content to deny it is an ill at all, instead pretending what emanates by the hour from the White House living quarters can simply be ignored as an endearing eccentricity from a POTUS “with his own way of doing things.” November clarified the folly of that view, but it seems that wasn’t painful enough. What will do the trick is a work in progress. Impeachment? Robust House Committee investigative work? Mueller? Full electoral repudiation in 2020, leaving only the most extreme elements of the party still employed? Who knows? Right now they are like compulsive gamblers still at the blackjack table come sunrise, house money exhausted hours ago, the nest egg now starting to be tapped. Problem? What problem? I’m having a blast!

Most every House Republican voice not fully wedded to Trumpism either retired or was asked to leave at the beginning of last month. They most recently fell in lock step with Trump’s nasty futility and passed an immigration package they knew was DOA in the Senate, abetting a government shutdown, as senseless as it was mean-spirited. Some did it out of abject cowardice, but most voted yea because they prefer the role of not actually having to govern, instead simply preening for Fox/AM and next cycle’s primary voters, and looking for loose change from the Adelson money float, like beads on Fat Tuesday.

Few feel inclined to take on Trump because few feel obliged to much other than reflecting the nihilist knee jerks of their constituents; that would require character they never possessed and surely has not been demanded by those who elected them. Wretched core qualifications are slight and do not change, ugly white grievance and resentment always butters the bread.

More and more there is a feeling of inevitability about impeachment. Anybody who doubts this vibe need only look for similarities of the current death spiral that characterizes this White House lately and Nixon’s final days. Trump feels terminal; certainly there is zero evidence of any 2019 governing agenda. Moreover, there is a tangible sensation of abandonment that leaves Trump totally isolated, alone in his desperation about Mueller and coming House oversight. Anything past day-to-day chaos in service to his immediate survival seems a bridge too far at this juncture. That doesn’t mean the GOP won’t keep carrying his water until some smoking gun revelation or attrition tipping point is finally reached, it’s what moorless entities do, but functional cooperation on policy priorities is over. This isn’t just lame duck… it’s dead man walking. As ever, the peril we all now face is how long that last mile takes to cover, and how much damage America and the world suffer in the meantime. BC


Who Needs Enemies

Nothing gets a tyrant’s blood pumping like a clean opportunity to wipe out large swaths of the opposition. At its heart autocratic rule is lazy. Instead of having to come up with ideas and sell populations on vision and it’s necessary details, the dictator merely has to excel at intrigue and deceit, weathering and eliminating the enemies he makes in the process. Purges and pogroms are much easier than election cycles and debates. Common sense dictates vulnerable democracies make the going easier for would be strong men because the opposition ties a hand behind their back by adhering to established rules and restrictions the usurper never gave a thought to obeying. Honor and decency are most always liabilities when confronting those with neither.

History is filled with examples of the right men doing the right thing at exactly the wrong time… and ending up a footnote in the storyline of a monster’s rise to absolute power. Today, while it is not hard to find tyrants no matter what part of the globe your eye wonders toward, Turkey is noteworthy because of its membership in NATO, presumably an alliance existing to protect democratic nations from encroachments ordered by unbound autocrats like Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Turkey’s increasingly undemocratic President.

Surreality is now the watch word, as America First disdain targets “unfair” elected European leaders bent on taking advantage of our good graces, while simultaneously making common cause with an autocrat not at all interested in processes he views primarily as impediments to his top priority… consolidating and increasing his own fortunes. As Erdogan rises, Turkey’s Kurds, the country’s largest minority, stand to suffer most. Their very existence long labeled a threat to national security, Erdogan sees his fortunes tied to persecuting Kurdish interests as a unifying theme he can use to distract from his systematic attacks on what’s left of Turkish democracy. Of course, neither Donald Trump or the wretched core he owes his political survival to know a Kurd from Adam. More importantly, neither cares anything about the dangers they face at the hands of his “great friend” Erdogan, who it seems can call directly anytime and chat despite the fact that Turkey supports the very ISIL elements the US has 2000 men stationed in Syria to help destroy!

Trump’s outlook is always minute-to-minute, a rabid survey based more on visceral impulse than any coherent strategic paradigm. The more complicated the scenario, the less his determination to adequately understand it. Human rights concerns certainly don’t encroach on his vapid obtuseness because… what’s in it for him? Yet and still, remember, he has campaign pledges to keep. Forty years after Jimmy Carter learned how hard promising to make human rights a guiding principle of US policy could make geopolitical life, we have a Chief Executive who doesn’t give the subject even a first thought. Ignorance is more than bliss, it’s a constant of this Administration.

There is no killing field in the world flowing deeper red than Turkey’s neighbor, Syria. It is where the Arab Spring morphed into Hell’s winter and nobody has been spared. Russia and Iran have backed embattled dictator Bashar al Assad’s savage efforts to remain in power since the start, a relentless assault by any means necessary, including gas, to put down an uprising that would have succeeded long ago had his benefactors not backed him to the hilt regardless of atrocity. As the country was carved into military spheres of influence, the failing nation-state’s small Kurdish population were ceded their own turf and defended it with militias formidable enough to prove invaluable to American efforts to defeat ISIL, an ugly mutation of Iraq’s endless conflict. But this is the land of the enemy of my enemy, and an ISIL caliphate, while the preponderant bipartisan boogie man of US politics, represented to Erdogan an attractive thorn in the side of Kurdish ambitions. Thus, Turkey, in direct conflict with stated American national interests, has remained a steady ISIL patron.

Does Trump even understand this? Not likely, and Erdogan certainly isn’t going to be the one to explain it to him, not after the President gift wrapped him the best holiday gift he could ask for, hasty withdrawal of the US contingent from Syria. Doing so fully betrays the Syrian Kurds, who have been primarily responsible for “wiping out” -Trump’s term as he constantly crows about it as his unparalleled feat of leadership – a burgeoning Islamic caliphate. A recklessly paced US withdrawal will leave Kurdish territory in Syria sandwiched between remaining elements of ISIL, who Turkey will quickly move to revitalize, and Turkish forces with no problem crossing the border to destroy its enemy. No good deed goes unpunished more than one done for the most ungrateful being on Earth, who we saw fit to elect President.

Of course, those who DO understand its full implications, most notably now former Secretary of Defense James Mattis, recognize the move for the unfettered idiocy it conveys. Our credibility as an ally is a cumulative continuum that defines our status as leader of the free world. Trump cares not a fig about either; his is a soulless existence dedicated to minute-to-minute tallies of who are “fair” to him and, thus, his “great friends.” America First is allies last, treating them with the same degree of fickleness Trump is notorious for, and the calamity is difficult to overstate. US global leadership is now officially past tense.

The President stayed at the White House for Christmas because even he can appreciate how bad the optics of daily rounds with the PGA’s finest at Doral would be in the face of a government shutdown he alone made happen . He apparently became stir crazy enough to overcome his fright of visiting Middle East war zones and headed to Iraq, a decision no doubt as hasty as his determination to leave Syria. Speaking to troops at al-Assad Air Base, Trump incredibly criticized their chain of command, except of course himself, for dallying on his Syria order. He then unintentionally fingered his assertion that up to 30,000 remaining ISIL fighters were figments of US government and the UN’s imaginations as just another of his constant stream of lies by justifying our continued presence in Iraq as necessary to monitor the supposedly decimated group’s status. That metric will surely immediately begin to rise as his soulmate Erdogan moves swiftly to reinvigorate ISIL’s efforts to erase Syrian Kurds.

The attractiveness of Trumpism to its supporters has always rested on the same deadly sin that makes vibrant democracy so loathsome to authoritarians… common laziness. World leadership is hard complicated work that requires often thankless sacrifice; who needs it?! Who cares if Kurdish regulars died fighting a common enemy, in that part of the world its catch as catch can; America First offers nothing more than relationships of convenience, and we’ll decide when they are no longer practical. One ally is as expendable as the next. Moreover, it’s none of our affair how other people are mistreated; business is business. Besides, who’s really keeping track? Surely nobody when we were being played for chumps and paying all the freight.

The frightful legacy of the Trump Presidency promises many damaging elements, none worse than our tarnished reputation as a reliable ally. The day other nations fully reject us as anything other than the reflection of our petty and self-consumed current President, we will be grievously wounded and adrift in world then infinitely more dangerous than in October of 2016. In the meantime, most Americans won’t care at all as Kurds in Syria fight for their survival in the wake of breathtaking betrayal by one man, who surely won’t give it a passing thought. They will join countless others on an ever growing list of those who learned the hard way relying on Donald Trump is a very bad situation that he will always make worse. BC


Glass Half Empty

Believe it or not I am always looking for good things to consider about the GOP. Trump’s a lost cause because his disdain for the job he holds, not to mention his compulsion to lie, more than offsets virtually anything positive he may inadvertently create. However, Congress is a large body, and if you can find nothing good about half of its membership then we really are at rock bottom.

One glimmer I felt hopeful about was what seemed a determined effort by GOP conservatives to rein in ridiculous farm subsidy payments that long ago gave up on any pretense of actually alleviating genuine hardship on our fruited plain. Instead they had become nothing other than graft goodies for agribusiness and wealthy donors with substantial rural land holdings deemed farms for the sole purpose of cashing in on government pork.

Of course, the nasty and mean-spirited obsession with foisting all manner of abasement on food stamp recipients remained a primary talking point when GOP Agriculture Committee members preened for Fox/AM. Yet and still, these days ANY indications of standing up to PAC monied lobbys by Republicans should not be discounted.

In fact, what was on the table in this regard was embarrassingly modest in the scheme of things. After all, the entire package approached $1 trillion, so trimming the fat off roughly $20 billion in annual subsidies shouldn’t have been that big a deal, right? Wrong!

At the start of negotiations things looked positive. Speaker Paul Ryan made clear the leadership backed subsidy reform by declaring Congress “shouldn’t be giving corporate farms, these large agribusiness companies, subsidies. I strongly believe that.” Indeed, out of the gate there were 18 separate proposals for reforming a system that had come to resemble nothing less than graft, quid pro quos paid for on the campaign trail.

Meanwhile, parallel to subsidy sanity was SNAP ugliness. Pursued under the mantle of “restoring integrity” to what for most recipients is a critical safety net, GOP negotiators led by Sen. Pat Roberts constantly fed the myth of welfare queen food stamp scammers which plays so well during appearances with the Fox prime time lineup.

Of course, as is the case with most Freedom Caucus crusades, the actual facts tell a completely different story. Fraud, while increasing in recent years, remains minuscule in the SNAP program, where families earning $16 K per year lose eligibility, and the average beneficiary receives a mere $125 per month. Moreover, data strongly supports the contention the program benefits exactly who it is supposed to…. those struggling to make ends meet while working or in between jobs. More than 80 percent of SNAP recipients had a job either the year before, during or the year after benefiting from the program. Alas, facts haven’t guided most GOP activity for years, and these negotiations were no exception. Forcing work requirements on the 49-59 age bracket of beneficiaries, those most likely to suffer serious health issues, as well as parents of 6-12 year old children, those most likely to need to stay home, was the disgust du jour this go round. Rep. K Michael Conaway of, where else, Texas called it tough love. “We believe breaking the poverty cycle is the only way forward,” intoned the paternal Odessa millionaire.

But ok, bullying nastiness aside, at least they were taking on the big money and pruning those multi-million dollar big business and donor giveaways. I mean at least some of those 18 proposals would make their way into the final package. Let’s be realists, how about half? A quarter? Two or three?! Frickin One?!!!

The final $867 billion package contained exactly zero of the proposals for trimming subsidies. Some were actually increased!! One amendment sought to trim the net income of couples receiving a subsidy from $1.8 million to $1.4 million, really nothing more than requiring creative CPA ideas at tax time… it went nowhere. In fact, the final bill actually allowed more distant kin, such as cousins and nephews to get in on the action.

Of course, emerging from the backrooms where the deal was hammered out, Republican negotiators were not anxious to discuss how their ambitious subsidy reform agenda was whittled down to nothing. Instead, they crowed how proud they were of manfully forcing “program integrity” on the grift-laden SNAP guidelines. After all, better to abase 40 million of your fellow citizens over $125.00 per month than break a sweat telling a millionaire or agribusiness CEO that their gravy boat is not quite as full this fiscal year. Lawmaking is all about choices.

So my search continues. But fear not, I am forever vigilant to spy pristine lily pads in the swamp. And none of this is to say Democrats weren’t complicit in this monstrosity of a farm bill, they were. Debby Stabenow of MI, like Roberts, has trouble with “no” when big money does the asking. However, the critical difference is this: Stabenow also speaks for those the GOP only views as chattel for enhancing their wretched Fox/AM bona fides, to be preyed upon whenever political advantage beckons. As for subsidy queens, they don’t appear to have much to fear from either side, least of all “principled conservatives” who talk tough and love to bully those with nothing, but bend over quicker than anybody when ordered back into line. BC

Executive Time

It’s doubtful any situation could be worse than having one’s direct well being wholly dependent on the whims of Donald Trump. The Apprentice, primarily responsible for our current national crisis, used the formula of contestants placed in just that situation and milked the ugliest human inclinations they displayed in the “boardroom,” begging our now President not to literally kick them to the 5th Avenue curb, for Nielson ratings relevance. Of course, what’s guilty pleasure humorous in prime time is now ruinous in real time. The crisis is here, nothing to debate. The least informed, most amoral and hypocritical, nastiest and self-centered political bloc since the Civil War pulls the strings of a POTUS with identical qualities, ultimately in service to a foreign adversary who likely forced his candidacy for the office he occupies in the first place. Whew! That’s a mouthful. Tough to contract a national nightmare.

It’s now just this simple: if you aren’t horrified by what the news offers us about this White House, your informers hail from the deepest bowels of Fox/AM. Congrats, reasonable Americans are at your mercy. Or, you are part of an equally deleterious group of citizens so intent on ignoring anything outside of their personal life narrative/struggle that militant insularity is the path you would rather die than abandon; currently, we are your subjects, too…. enjoy. The rest of us are left to suffer the chaos psychopathic personalities typically offer those unfortunate enough to dwell within their sphere of influence. Worse than a stick in the eye!

One of the most surreal and impactful scenes in movie history occurs in Apocalypse Now, after Martin Sheen’s lead character hooks up with a boat patrol crew and heads way up river to the intestines of the Vietnam War. Eventually, they come upon a situation straight out of hell, as a platoon without any leadership at all runs amok, with no rhyme or reason, aimless in a playground of death and destruction. It’s movie magic that creates nightmares, but we can awake and realize it’s fiction and it’s over. This is real, and we’re all in it up to our knickers!

General Mattis’ letter of resignation is a masterpiece of understatement. While its essentials are eloquent and constructive – the exact opposite of its recipient’s means of communication – the thesis is two big middle fingers directed toward a former employer he could no longer abase himself for. All adults have officially left the building, Fox is in the house! Government by Miller and Bolton, Pompeo and Conway. When Mick Mulvaney is guarding the codes, one best seek distance… plenty of it.

Anyone wanting to make sure they don’t overeat this Yuletide season merely needs to repeatedly ponder who Trump may land on to replace Mattis. Secretary of Defense Hegseth?! Levin?! The crazy cross-eyed Judge whats-her-name?! Even Roger Ailes is rolling in his grave. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.

Richard Nixon was forced to resign under a cloud the growing list of charges against Trump surpassed long ago. And say whatever you want about Nixon, he was a highly educated man, a deep and fully informed geopolitical strategist, and, for all of his insecure dishonesty, in the end at least cognizant of the depth of his responsibilities. Of course, Trump possesses not an inkling of any of those qualities; we are way up river with Martin Sheen.

To those who want to make some argument that the policies he is pursuing aren’t all that bad. For example, there is a point to be made we shouldn’t have one toe in Syria, or it’s time Europe did more for its own security. You all haven’t been listening. Process and continuity are everything, and neither now exists. Try to turn a container ship on a dime and everything falls into the ocean, and believe me, Queeg’s got nothing on our imbecile. Without a Presidential decisionmaking process, with its numerous filters and safeguards, its diverse collection and analysis of information, its policy working group recommendations, rigorous executive debate, you get what we now have, policy by whim. At that point the world stands at the mercy of the qualifications and temperament of who is calling the shots…. nuff said.

There is not an indicator available that suggests the Trump Administration will do anything other than further implode. Trump has always isolated himself, it’s what wretched malcontents do. Albert Einstein could offer nothing he would record and learn from. By now there is no mystery. Shameless self-promotion, one lie after another, ceaseless attacks on anyone not wholly sycophantic, constant whining about being victimized or unappreciated, zero preparation for public remarks, zero interest in learning issues or policy, full indifference to the standards and traditions of his office, full determination to divide the country… the list is endless and certain.

It’s never been about the daily Trump inanities, or even the normalized disdain for the pluralism he is supposed to protect, the real danger is the catastrophe rendered exponentially more possible under his sorry watch. An economic meltdown, regional military conflagaration, 9/11 type terrorist venture, all will force acquiescence to whatever this White House brings to the table because such crises offer no other alternatives. At that point Mueller no longer matters, checks and balances don’t apply, no other condiments will be available to make our lot less distasteful… a shit sandwich will be all the menu offers.

In short, this buggy is heading toward a cliff and at least a third of its passengers are psyched about its direction. The rest of us better figure out fast how to regain the controls because parachutes aren’t available. Why more of this nation’s governing “establishment,” – those in attendance at George HW’s funeral etc. – aren’t making overt efforts to remove Trump befuddles and worries me. Perhaps the “deep state” and remote nooks and recesses on Capitol Hill have some things going on to speed his departure and prevent calamity. Who knows? One thing is certain… all of the fail safes and layers of protection we imagined kept us safe from Trump’s worst last January have fallen away one by one. We are all now in the boardroom. BC

Country Roads

A wonderful woman I know well lost her son to a drug overdose several years ago. I had watched him grow into a handsome and charismatic young man; his death was shocking and, as one could imagine, devastated his mother. Like many other parents of kids lost to opioids, she has assuaged her grief by jumping head-long into support activities, creating a group that meets on a regular basis to confront the opioid epidemic’s ruinous reach into families, and advocate for education and understanding of the disease that is addiction. Of course, she uses social media, primarily Facebook, to spread her message, detail her activities, and otherwise bestow the wisdom her personal experience has taught her. Like so many others in her situation, she clearly finds it personally therapeutic to both help prevent others from suffering her heartbreak, as well as aid those in the throes of similar tribulations endure the plight she now knows all too well. Oh, and like an overwhelming majority of West Virginia voters, she strongly supports the President. 

On March 23, 2017 the Admiral Processing Plant in Boone County, W.Va., leaked more than 5000 gallons of coal slurry into Crooked Run, a tributary of the Coal River. The spill happened upstream from several municipal water intake systems, potentially poisoning drinking water for Lincoln County residents. Yet another spill occurred a week later during cleanup operations, the result of a pump that failed moving contaminated water. Water samples taken at the site came back showing maximum toxicity. Black Castle Mining Company, responsible for the spill, was issued a “notice of violation” by the WVA Department of Environmental Protection, which no doubt had Black Castle executives shaking in their suspenders. And while area water treatment officials maintained tests on tap water returned “in line with normal values,” it’s a sure bet bottled water sales in affected areas will remain high for more than the foreseeable future. How many Lincoln County residents will now or eventually become fierce and committed defenders of the environment as a result of their Erin Brockovich moment is unclear, but it’s likely safe to say few still ignore the issue of relaxing coal slurry regulations, a Trump EPA priority. 

One word is ever found amidst the bromides and true substance alike of our chaotic national political discussion… freedom. It populates most every campaign speech, punctuates endless comment sections, and generally begins and ends the assessments  of where things stand, how far things have deteriorated, and what we should aspire to. The concept of freedom is ubiquitous to our national identity. But for my money what most Americans place at the top of the list concerning how freedom should define their existence reflects nothing more than the ambitions of citizens residing in autocracies, with no pretense regarding the concept at all – the freedom to remain blissfully oblivious! 

Nihilism won out in 2016 and we pay the price for its victory every hour. That we suffer a President more notable for unprecedented tirades and narcissistic preoccupation speaks to the utter indifference of the electorate he won over with a campaign focused on nothing more than reversing a laundry list of grievances tied to his predecessor, who earned the disdain of millions more for his skin tone than anything substantive he pursued while in office. 

Community relies on acceptance that actions and policies have consequences everybody shares in. The idea that certain groups have it coming to them, or somehow act in ways deserving of special disdain for what are supposed to be uniform rights and protections requires purposeful ignorance, a willful desire not to pay attention to events one has convinced themself can’t apply to their situation. 

Figuring it’s not possible that you or yours could ever live down river from a coal slurry spill, so hearing Trump soulessly attack responsible environmental safeguards as “job killing” regulations on the campaign trail doesn’t register or even resonates with you, requires a level of willful ignorance fully at odds with the minimum requisites of democracy. It’s an abdication of civic responsibility, capable of tolerating our worst, which we are. 

For decades heroin addiction and fatal overdoses were the stuff to justify “a war on drugs” and mass incarceration of inner city minorities,  not to provide resources for education and addiction recovery. Why? An easy question with obvious answers. But now “our” kids are dying and the issue’s suddenly far more complicated, more heartbreaking, something worthy of involvement. Gun violence. Climate Change. Even healthcare.  All seem increasingly relevant and harder to ignore. The price of pretending the world effects only those we don’t need to worry about carries a steeper price tag than once thought. The  world eventually knocks on all of our doors. 

Trump’s approval rating in West Virginia in October was 58 %, among the highest of any state in the nation. Of course West Virginia is a coal mining state, but that industry continues its decline as the world shifts away from fossil fuels, and easy to mine veins have been exhausted. In fact, since 1990 coal jobs provide a sliver of West Virginia occupations, exponentially outpaced by government and healthcare employment, two top targets of Trump grievance.

And while West Virginia is still ranked at the bottom of the nation as a state to do business in, it has consistently led the country in one category since 2015…. the rate of opioid overdoses. Most all agree the the Trump Administration’s response to the opioid crisis has been worse than sluggish. “Lack of leadership” is the phrase most often heard to describe Trump’s performance.

Such criticism is restrained compared to common views of the President’s role on the environment. Forget about Scott Pruitt, Trump’s scandal-ridden choice to lead the EPA, who he still defends even after he was run out of DC on a rail, there is not a meaningful clean water or air protection on the books that is not in this Administration’s crosshairs. Surprise! West Virginia, though relatively sparsely populated, ranks 6th in the nation for dirtiest air and water.

Trump enjoyed holding rallies throughout West Virginia in the run up to this year’s mid-terms. Defeating blue dog Democratic Senator Joe Manchin became a top priority for the President. Aside from gratuitous exclamations about “rescuing” the coal industry, no talking point received more raucous applause than Trump’s border wall. Indeed, he could barely even start in on the issue before being interrupted by prolonged “build that wall” chants from his country roads faithful. Meanwhile, West Virginia ranks 48th in the nation in Hispanic population. Less than 1 % of the state’s residents are immigrants from Mexico or Central America….. go figure.

The crisis of US politics is said to be in large part the result of too many citizens believing government does not reflect their priorities. But what exactly are those concerns? Looking at West Virginia, and the politicians its voters prefer, one would be forgiven for simply scratching their head and professing to not have a clue what the hell is going on. Or maybe assuming rationality by parsing objective facts and figures is a dead end. Maybe intangible emotions rule the day. Maybe narratives created out of thin air by failed djs and hucksters selling gold shares and lifelock subscriptions tell the true tale. Either way, the many benefits freedom is meant to bestow don’t seem to be enhancing the daily routines of West Virginians very much. Yet and still, they are free to continue to ignore that unfortunate fact, perhaps while heading to the Walmart for another case of Poland Spring. BC

Self Inflicted

“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

There is little doubt the greatest blessing bestowed on the United States is geography. Two oceans assure our national security. Of course, nuclear proliferation being what it is, coupled with ghoulish biological technology now available, we have become far more vulnerable to foreign danger than anyone should be comfortable with. Yet and still, no foreign tanks will be parading up Pennsylvania Avenue anytime soon… unless we invite them. At the end of the day we the people are what we have been since just past the turn of the 19th century, potentially our own worst enemy.

It’s now as clear as a bottle of Stoli that Russia engaged the Trump campaign and incoming Administration on numerous fronts with multiple people. Russian interests joined an army of social media trolls to both get Trump elected and discredit charges of collusion and overt corruption once he was sworn in. The evidence is mounting that it is reasonable to suspect this White House actively collaborated and may still be cooperating with the Kremlin. While the President rails daily about witch hunts and deep state cabals, more and more pieces of the collusion puzzle are coming together, and they present a chilling picture of foreign influence that becomes harder by the day to refute.

From probes aimed to feel out an enthusiastic Donald  Jr. to an actual spy working with NRA staff and the GOP donor network to meetings in Russia with Carter Paige and now a Moscow building project Trump himself was involved with deep into the campaign, revelations are emerging one after the other, and they now connect a narrative that points to an ambitious effort by Moscow to help Trump gain and stay in power.  However, the smoking gun that most clarifies Trump’s treachery won’t be found in any efforts to aid in his election, or spin his corruption, it’s going to be found in what motivated him to become a candidate in the first place. That is where the unprecedented sedition will be discovered; perhaps it already has been. To do so will require exploring the full extent of Trump’s business failures, and how financially compromised they left him. 

Allen Weisselberg’s relationship with Donald Trump goes back 30 years, to a time when Fred Trump, Donald’s father, underwrote most everything his reckless son pursued. In fact, Weisselberg began his career as an accountant for elder Trump, eventually working his way up to CFO of the entire Trump Organization. Nobody, including the careless and disinterested other trustee of the Trump Organization, Donald Jr.,  knows more about the forensics of the Donald’s smoke and mirrors “fortune” than Weisselberg. That he testified this summer before a grand jury after being granted full immunity and has been stashed away for safe keeping surely portends damaging revelations are on the way. 

You don’t have to be Columbo to recognize Trump was vulnerable to compromise. Only those without interest in the facts don’t appreciate how truly awful his business performance was through the decades. It’s now understood by all but his wretched core that the fable of young Donald building an empire from a quickly refunded $1 million loan from his father couldn’t have been further  from the truth. In fact, the New York Times exhaustively exhumed more than $400 million Fred provided to cover the costs of one failure after another by a son more interested in nightlife and fame than the toil necessary to succeed. His father joined every other investor in the sad fraternity of those who lost millions supporting a plethora of belly up Trump schemes. That Fred Trump found tax fraud as a way to profit from his son’s incompetence only enhances any theories about unsavory doings. 

Weisselberg seems the only one who knows where all the bodies lie, and if he accepted full immunity, Mueller’s team received a complete map. It’s a good bet that map points east, where Trump was forced to go for liquidity after fully wearing out his welcome here. After all, you can only stiff so many vendors, renege on so many agreements, default on so much debt before you become a pariah. Trump became persona non grata in American financial circles, dismissed as far more trouble than he was worth….the Roy Cohn of business. 

Germany’s Duetche Bank inexplicably extended him a line of credit in the late 90s, when no US institution would let him in the lobby. Subsequent revelations of sketchy connections between Duetche Bank and Russian oligarchs provides the landscape to place Trump as a vehicle for laundering kleptocratic gains. That Trump eventually showed up with hundreds of millions in mystery cash to purchase in full at top dollar – a previously unimaginable prospect – golf properties with no profitability in sight seems more than suspicious; it’s a red flag atop a blaring siren.  All of which meant nothing more than the craven criminality of a grifter bent on maintaining both his ultra-opulent lifestyle and the lie it bolstered… until somebody in Russian Intelligence sold Putin on having their very own US Presidential candidate. 

Rep. Adam Schiff (D-CA) has tolerated the obfuscation of his GOP counterpart Devin Nunes for just about two years now. Nunes, perhaps Trump’s most overt facilitator in Congress, has done everything in his office’s power to derail and misguide the House Intelligence Committee’s investigation into possible Russian ties to the Trump campaign. Things will change dramatically in the next session. 

Schiff made clear yesterday his desire to examine Duetche Bank’s relationship with Trump as well as the head scratching all cash purchase of Turnberry Golf Club in Scotland. The increasingly unhinged tone of Trump toward the enhanced scrutiny heading his way betrays growing desperation. He appears content to pursue yet another diversion by shutting down the government and hightailing it down to Palm Beach for the holidays. It’s a safe bet the Mar-A-Lago crowd, which always seems to reinforce his worst inclinations, will have him ready for battle when he returns to the White House. That, coupled with increasing signs Mueller may be prepared to lay out all his cards on the table, means things may finally come to a head, and America may have to face the specter that it elected a Manchurian President.

More than 80 percent of Iowa Republicans approve of Trump’s job performance, and two-thirds make clear they will vote for him again. Whatever facts come forward, no matter how devastating, it’s not likely to impress millions of Americans who view anything deleterious to Trump as, not only lies manufactured to harm their champion, but sedition meant to destroy their country. They are informed by only one narrative and are unapologetic about the select number of news and information sources they trust. In other words, we are about to experience  just how prescient old Abe Lincoln was, and confront what has always been our nation’s most ominous threat, a danger even our geographical blessings are powerless to stop…. Us! BC