The good news: the Inauguration is finally over. The bad news: the Inauguration is finally over. We now have the women’s march. After that, things may finally calm down on the streets of DC. DC’s NE/SW shooting war can then return to its usual lethal target practice. Last week a wheelchair bound woman was killed in broad daylight; only the local press paid attention. In that sense, President Trump’s carnage line was correct: off camera, DC carnage rules.
It’s not that I have anything against the women’s march; however I think in a world full of demonstrations and elaborate PR stages, it’s just one more show. Time to heed lethargic Buffalo Springfield, singing those songs and carrying those signs – hooray for our side! There has to be a better way.
As for the rest, Barack Obama spent the last month telling us how wonderful the world is. The Donald Administration then turned around and told us just how awful the world is. If there is any better illustration of the divide in this country, that’s probably it. I don’t believe either of them, frankly. The world clacks on, oblivious to all attempts at political quality control. Neither of these guys was/is as powerful as he thinks.
The Inaugural address was vintage DJT. . .SAD! If that’s the best he can do, he desperately needs a good speech writer. By the way, for a millionaire (or whatever) the guy doesn’t have a decent office; the pictures of Donald writing his speech were taken at the receptionist’s desk at his Florida resort. Perhaps the receptionist was on break and he took a few phone calls in the meantime and gave directions. Meanwhile, British bookies are taking bets on not if but when there’s going to be an impeachment. Sadly, I came to that conclusion sometime last summer; it didn’t matter who won, unless it was Gary Johnson or the Ghost of Abraham Lincoln. Come to think of it, Johnson would have been indicted for pot smoking in, say, Virginia and Lincoln would have been disqualified for having already served two terms. Impeachment, or at least crippling unpopularity, is inevitable.
There was grace in yesterday’s drizzly weather, but none of it came from Trump. President Obama was pursed and controlled, Michelle’s usual bouncy enthusiasm had dissipated into the chill drizzle, she of the scraped back hair and drab overcoat. Hillary was fine, acquitting herself well in her white pantsuit (white was the color of the day, I notice). Her husband, President Clinton, however was ogling Ivanka a bit too boldly. Our dear randy Bill forgot that this was no longer 1998 – cameras are everywhere these days. I note the Carters weren’t there or perhaps the cameras just didn’t bother with them. Melania was beautiful and submissive, our very own Slavic supermodel floating in to grace state dinners; Jackie O she’s not.
Would that I could close my eyes and wish the next four years into history. No sense in that. Time to man up and face the future.