House of Cardsharks

This ridiculous farce of a presidency is so sickly fascinating, like rubbernecking at a disaster scene, that it’s hard to turn away, or wrap your mind around it.  Maybe it’s why some people are drawn to portrayals of violence and torture, like prey transfixed by a predator’s glare.  You stare at Trump and his clown posse in disbelief, certain that this nightmare will evaporate like mist in the light of day, but here it still is, in all its absurdity.  It’s plainly a hostile takeover.

In stark contrast were the many huge women’s marches across the country and world, even in unexpected places, reassuring us that some sanity and resistance still exist.  Trumpists can trumpet their delusional denial all they want, but numbers don’t lie.  A vast majority of women, men, and children can see through him and his crap, and won’t go down without a fight.  I hope this momentum continues to build, and his house of cards disintegrates.  Nothing built on such a flimsy, unscrupulous foundation can last for long.

Here at the local level of our apartment, we just roll our eyes, shake our heads, and wonder what the hell is going on in this country formerly know as a democracy.  The tension and apprehension are taking their toll.  There were uncertainties and insecurities before, but a few basic anchors and defenses seemed to be stable.  Now it’s all unpredictable and volatile, like our infant-in-chief.

I say “our”, but I renounce him as my president.  He barged his vulgar way into power illegally and without a real plan.  He and his appointees are supposed to serve us, not abandon us to our fates while they gloat.  They openly disrespect us, and I see nothing there to respect back or pledge allegiance to.  So sue me.  That’s where I stand, and I’m not alone.





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