Politicians are well know for their willingness to do damn near anything to be elected or re-elected. As Richard Jordan said in Hunt for Red October, “I’m a politician, which means that when I’m not kissing babies, I’m stealing their candy.”
Today’s politicians make that attitude seem downright saintly. Specifically, the Republican Party, which used to prize personal responsibility and fiscal conservatism is now willing to compromise everything because they fear the far-far-far-right white supremacists who adore Donald Trump.
Apparently, there is no line to cross. They’ve been bought, paid for, wrapped in gift paper, and delivered.
And it doesn’t seem to bother them at all.
As near as I can tell, your President is verbally feuding–or more correctly, twitterpating–with a swimsuit model. Based on my millennia (NOT Melania) of experience and observation, a swimsuit model is like a dancing girl, except that she doesn’t dance.
I wish I had a drachma for every time I’ve seen a powerful man distracted by a woman followed by his downfall. There was Adam and Eve, although that is fairly allegorical. Marcus Antonius and Cleopatra, King David and Bathsheba are all famous cases that were devastating for all involved. Then there was the young dancer who suckered King Herod into having John the Baptist beheaded. Her mother told her to do it–I can tell you with confidence that the dancer didn’t really dream about having John’s bloody head on a silver platter as an objet d’art in her bedroom.
Powerful people seem to believe that they’re too smart; that they’ll win every time; that bad things will never happen to them.
If these people are really so smart, why don’t they pick their fights with philosophers, scientists, or college professors?
Your democratic republic is confusing to me. I’ve seen many approaches to representative government–it’s far more difficult than autocratic forms of government, but “the consent of the governed” makes for a powerful nation-state.
In America’s case, one of the most interesting and challenging ideas is the Electoral College. Initially, as far as I can tell, the Founding Fathers wanted to ensure that less populated states would still have representation.
The emphasis then was united STATES–the states were not provinces, but actual nation-states. This idea, unfortunately, contributed to the Civil War since the Southern States believed that as nation-states they were sovereign and free to choose to stay in or leave the Union.
After the Union victory, the prevailing attitude became that it was one nation.
Therein lies the problem.
When Americans vote, do they vote as members of one country or as members of semi-sovereign local states? Is the president the leader of one nation, or fifty semi-autonomous pseudo nation-states?
If one nation, the Electoral College is unnecessary. If fifty semi-autonomous, semi-sovereign states, the Electoral College makes sense.
I’m confused, because from my perspective, it is a single nation.
Hopefully someone will explain this all to me.
I’ve spoken. I’ve written. I’ve done what you would call “performance art.” All this has taken centuries.
Let me put that in perspective. Your father’s birth to your death might be around a century. Now multiply that by 20 or 30. Got it? Good.
I resorted to walking around in daylight carrying a lighted lamp claiming to be looking for an honest man. THAT is how desperate I was and am for exposing the truth. However, sooner or later, when one is not successful, it is wise to give up and seek another course.
I’ve been writing here (wherever here is) for over a year. Being dead, I do not have Twitter, Facebook, or whatever, nor do I want them. I have always fallen victim to the belief that people would seek the truth; if I were a video game, that might be true.
Bottom Line: If you want me to keep writing, do what you can to get others to follow this blog. If there aren’t sufficient people interested in what I have to say by the Autumn Equinox, I will cease writing and take my efforts elsewhere.
If few respond, then I must believe that people prefer the sensational and inconsequential to the truth.
The ball–as you say–is in your court. I’ll be napping in my sewer (look it up if you don’t believe me).
Bot too long ago, I wrote a
sarcastic parody about the Statue of Liberty, suggesting that it no longer stood for the ideals it once did. I never suspected that one of the members of the White House Theatrical Society, which includes all the “acting” federal officials, would steal my idea without at least attributing the source.
Ken Cuccinelli, Acting Director of US Citizenship and Immigration Services has decided that immigration should only be available to those who can stand “on their own two feet.”
Of course, that was the standard when thousands of black Africans were brought here as slaves.
When the Irish fled starvation and the Jews fled persecution.
Oh, and may I add for the benefit of Mr. Cuccinelli that his ancestors may have arrived during the significant immigration of Italians, who fled their home country because “decades of internal strife had left a legacy of violence, social chaos, and widespread poverty. The peasants in the primarily poor, mostly rural south of Italy and on the island of Sicily had little hope of improving their lot.”
Thank heaven that the people of Guatemala, Venezuela, Syria, aren’t facing such problems.
Ken, you can send my royalty checks to any charity that supports the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, and those who are persecuted.
I’m feeling left out—maybe you should feel left out, too.
Many people are being tweeted about, given nicknames, mentioned by name at press conferences.
He never gave me a nickname but just ignored me.
How about you? If you have been ignored, then you’re a nobody too. Just admit it and accept your fate in life.
Few deserve his attention, and neither you nor I made the cut.
I guess he doesn’t like that my hands are very large.
The Washington, DC extravaganza, today, is touted as “honoring the military.”
Answer me honestly–how would you feel if for a holiday, which you expected to have time to relax and spend with friends, instead you have to put on a uniform, complete with tightly buttoned coat, and stand in the sun?
In Washington, DC.
With the forecast of 90 degrees (F), although the heat index (how it feels) will be 102 degrees.
Plus strong thunderstorms forecast.
Me? I’d rather have the day off.