I woke up in one of “those” moods.
What kind of mood do you ask? Well, I guess somewhere between “Come on people now, smile on your brothers, everybody get together try to love one another right now,” written by Chet Powers and famously recorded by the Youngbloods and H.L. Mencken’s feelings about religion: “In America it is used as a club and a cloak by both politicians and moralists, all of them lusting for power and most of them palpable frauds.”
With wildfires, earthquakes, a plethora of hurricanes, the GOP’s latest venture into decimating healthcare for anyone but the super rich, our president’s usurpation of Bernie Taupin lyrics to describe Kim Jong Un (“Rocket Man”) coupled with his threat of total destruction of North Korea as well as his continued insistence illegal immigrants, Muslims and other assorted downtrodden people of color are out to destroy our way of life while Russians and White Supremacists are no trouble, I’ve been left a little discombobulated.
I have a friend from college who is convinced this is all just a bad LSD trip and we’ll wake up to the horrible reality that Ronald Reagan is still our president and it’s 1984. “It’s just our reaction to electing Rasta Ronnie,” he claims with a straight face. “We’re just foreshadowing how his presidency will destroy us all.”
Me? I’m just waiting for the plague of locusts and frogs before the Nile turns red with blood.
For those who swear by the cloak and fiction of modern religion, we are fast approaching – if we haven’t already arrived at – your “Come to Jesus” moment where you’re hoping you’re not among those left on the planet after your neighbors start disappearing with a very audible “Pop.”
For the rest of us heathen who believe Christianity is wasted on the Christians – we’re busy looking for a way to settle the hash before The Donald turns North Korea’s sand into glass and ruins real estate prices worldwide.
On the one hand there is a bit of logic in letting the crazies who run rogue regimes and even terrorists who drive around in pickup trucks waging war against defenseless people know there’s a bigger stick in the room. Trump is doing his Michael Keaton/Bruce Wayne impression; “Now you wanna get nuts? Come on! Let's get nuts.”
The problem, of course, is on the other side of the equation you’ve got a true egomaniacal idiot who’s willing to bring it all down just to watch the world burn. “Never rub another man’s rhubarb,” Jack Nicholson/The Joker warned us all.
In the end the good guy wins but not before there’s a scene from a Cecil B. DeMille film with the aforementioned scenes of biblical carnage.
So whatever you smoke and whatever you ingest, there is little that can keep you from facing the great maw into which we’ve plunged ourselves with our president and this administration.
General John Kelly, seen with his head in his hands during Trump’s recent speech before the United Nations has been somewhat successful in controlling the craziness in the West Wing, but the administration remains a train wreck or sideshow of biblical proportions complete with circus freaks and charlatans equally vying for the limelight.
As every other week has been since the inauguration, this week the Trump administration careened from the sublimely ridiculous to the outright dangerous. Former press secretary Sean Spicer offered a laugh in the Emmys, but few were left laughing about the Facebook ad sales to Russian troll farms, the threats against North Korea and Iran, Paul Manafort’s apparent coming indictment, more twitter litter by Trump and the specter of the GOP pushing a healthcare bill that wouldn’t even suffice as burial insurance.
Spicer played the fool, but the joke is on us. We all knew – well anyone who wasn’t a Trump devotee – that the inaugural numbers were an example of cooking the books. Spicer coming forward and admitting the lies was nice, but it shows – at its heart – how desperately out of touch members of this administration truly are.
There are those who live by the words of the president. When you admit you’ve been engaging in subterfuge with the American electorate from the very first day in the highest office in the land, you’ve admitted to a stain that isn’t easily erased.
I alternately laugh and get angry at this situation, but spend a great deal of time trying to convince those on the far right and the far left that there are those of us in the middle who want to work together.
Somewhere in the future, if we all survive, someone will undoubtedly undertake a full-length psychological study of Trump, the culture that produced him and many of his strange, oddly misinformed and brittle minions.
I’m still somewhere between Mencken’s warning about politicians, “ a good politician, under democracy, is quite as unthinkable as an honest burglar,” and the words sung by the Youngbloods;
“We are but a moment's sunlight/ Fading in the grass.”