Strangers in a Strange Land

Posted in rantings and ravings on July 31st, 2018 by skeeter

These are strange times and getting stranger by the minute and by the tweet. We take it for granted now that every morning we’ll rise and shine to a new law of physics handed down by the logic-averse White House and ratified by the toadies who, like Pence, smile their frozen acquiescence and wait their turn. To say Democracy hangs in the balance, well, maybe that seemed hysterical a year ago, but how about now? A buddy, a veteran of Viet Nam, asked me how I liked Nixon these days. Nixon looks pretty damn good.

The Trump Reality Show operates on the premise that the audience needs constantly new shocks and awe, otherwise we would turn our limited attention spans to a different channel. The sad truth is, the clown king is right, we crave the tension and the suspense. It’s a cliffhanger every day now, forget who won the ballgame yesterday, forget your kid’s birthday, forget changing the oil on your car. You got what short attention you can give fixed totally on the Next Tweetstorm. Today it was threatening Iran with Total Annihilation Unlike Anything Seen in the History of the Universe!! Does that grab your attention??

Well, not as much as it might’ve before he said the same thing to the North Koreans…. My worry is that the Trumpster has sense enough to realize that he can only ratchet up the rhetoric so far and then he’ll have to actually DO something. You know, maybe a small pre-emptive strike on a Balkan state who hasn’t paid their share of NATO dues. THAT should bring your attention back to sharp focus.

What most of us are focusing on these days is how we have a rogue President in the White House, a man uninterested in reading much of anything, not even a one page briefing report, and who has decided the only bright person in the room is the guy he admires in the mirror every morning. If ignorance is bliss, we can count our blessings here in the Yew Ess of Aye. But if it’s a prescription for error, hang on to your seats, the ride is going to get a lot rockier before we get rid of this narcissistic huckster.

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Fart of the Deal

Posted in rantings and ravings on May 27th, 2018 by skeeter

So close … and yet, so far. The Nobel Peace Prize was Donald’s for the asking. He had already declared victory for the world and, of course, himself, the Master Wheeler Dealer of the Century, the man who showers accolades on himself deserved or not. He had wrung concessions from Little Rocket Man by threatening nuclear holocaust on the Korean Peninsula and now all he had to do was show up in Stockholm and accept the prize.

Easy as pie for the Donald. Nothing to it. Those other yahoos, those previous presidents, they’d taken the long route, sent over diplomats, set the table, delved into those pesky details, laid the groundwork … only to have it blow up at the end. The Trumpeter was not going to be pulled into that vortex of complexity, not for a minute, no fool he. Throw the Hail Mary and before the ball had even begun to descend toward the goal line, declare Victory and grab the Prize. Be home to Mir-a-Lago in time to catch Fox and Friends and take the congratulatory call from Hannity. Fantastic work, Mr. President!

Oh sure, they said the Koreans might worry about John Bolton mouthing off after writing that article proving beyond the shadow of a doubt we had the right, if not the moral imperative, to attack North Korea pre-emptively. And when he mentioned they should follow the Libyan model for disarmament, maybe they worried Fearless Leader would end up in the same ditch as Ghaddafi. But that’s the kind of tough talk that works far better than subtle diplomacy. So what if a week ago the deal with Iran was torn up. A deal’s not a deal unless Donald says it’s a deal. After all, he is the master of the Art of, well, you already know, the Deal. And he was offering Little Rocket Man a deal. You disarm those nukes, we’ll make you rich and happy.

Well, if you can’t trust Trump to honor a deal, who can you trust? He gave you a chance and you turned your back. Now you’ve pissed him off. You’ve cost him that Nobel, no easy thing for him to digest. He’d already had one made and if you think he’s sending it back, you don’t know jack about negotiating. Surrender now!

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