What’s It Gonna Be?

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The Supreme Court ain’t so supreme, of late.

Maybe it has always benefited from a certain undeserved mystique- its members aren’t gods, after all, just human beings tasked with important work. Justices over the years have produced many landmark decisions seemingly based on a sincere and fair treatment of testimony and applicable law, even charting new ground from time to time, especially when it comes to human rights and bodily autonomy.

Lately, though, there seems to be some backsliding. More suspicion, more doubt, more finger pointing in the direction of a hand-picked conservative majority on a mission to, oh, I don’t know, tighten things up, bring us back to a “better” place that pleases straight, white Christians everywhere.

In the midst of the Trump mess, the court seems to not want to stick its neck out and abide by the 14th Amendment provision of forbidding insurrectionists from running for office. Though he hasn’t been accused yet, many know what Trump did and who and what he really is, and how dangerous he has become.

So maybe it comes down to how closely the court adheres to the letter of the law, along with its efforts to reel in the temptation to react to certain public sentiment, and to what many are seeing with their own eyes: Trump running roughshod over, and even making a mockery of certain norms that have long served as guardrails.

Sometimes it looks like nothing can be done to make him go away.

Approaching Catatonic

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Donald Trump is on a downward spiral and it appears he can’t reverse the spin.

Just when we might think we’ve seen it all—as this applies to the depths to which he so willingly plummets—The Donald outdoes himself and uncovers another circle of Hell in which to reside for a bit.

We’ve left embarrassing in the rearview mirror. It’s moving quickly toward self-immolation anymore. Trump looks weary, he’s perennially angry and clueless, acting more like a child every day. He’s saying things, threatening annexation of Canada again, frustrated by events in Iran, issuing insane tweets left and right, more energized by arches and ballrooms and UFC preparations than being mindful of the condition of the nation he’s supposed to be leading.

Meanwhile, many of us are still, somehow, summoning incredulity, wondering where Congress has gone—especially its Republican membership—and if it will ever mount viable opposition to this wholesale abandonment of reason and responsibility.

We’re watching a person who cannot grasp the solemnity of any moment continue on some sort of rampage, fixated on fluff and superficiality, totally self-involved, deceived into thinking that people love when he speaks.

How on earth can we let this go on?

Stripping Away the Chaff

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Daily writing prompt
Do you believe in minimalism?
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I had to read up on this, since I think I get the basic gist, but not the details.

According to an article entitled Becoming Minimalist, written by Joshua Becker, minimalism involves intentionally promoting the things we most value and removing everything that distracts us from those things. According to Becker, it is a freedom from the passion to possess– it steps off the treadmill of consumerism and dares to seek happiness elsewhere.

Minimalism is a freedom from modern mania, it slows life down and frees us from this modern hysteria to live faster. It is a freedom from duplicity, it is counter-cultural, and it is internal– not external. Removing the physical clutter allows one to more clear-headedly address issues that impact relationships and our lives.

What’s not to like about simplifying things? I’m not sure I could live with such wholesale intentionality, though I see the wisdom in it.

So, yes, as far as believing in minimalism. Living it would be another matter.

Surprise!

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment in your life that felt like it was straight out of a movie?
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After publishing this, I might think of something else, but the only moment that’s coming to mind seems like something that would nowadays show up in a YouTube clip about surprising loved ones with an unexpected visit.

Long after we had all married and started families and moved to different states, my brothers and I traveled back to Massachusetts to surprise our parents around the time of their birthdays, I think it was. We hatched a somewhat elaborate scheme to stay out of sight until the appropriate time, and the “reveal” was everything one might hope it would be. It was a great weekend.

Choreographed Emptiness

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Our 250th Birthday is shaping up to be just some lonely guy at the end of a table attempting to unfurl a noisemaker after a night of heavy drinking.

What will we be celebrating, as a nation? Sure, there will still be the local festivities with parades and fireworks and cookouts. But as a nation, what will be the condition of our psyche? Will we feel like a party is in order? Will it be all red, white, and blue and weak-in-the-knees patriotism? Will we feel any sense of pride or optimism? Or will it look more like confusion, like the contrived excitement of that gathering of young people in Beijing who stopped whooping and hollering, as if on cue, as soon as Trump and Xi had passed by?

Personally speaking, I already know how it will go for me. It will be underwhelming, a lament, a regretful recognition that the dark cloud of incompetence and ugly intentions still hovers. Because the one who sits in the Oval Office is trying to tear this country apart, not make it great again. “Great” is a relative term.

He levels the East Wing, unilaterally. He orders a UFC monstrosity on the South Lawn of the White House. He orders his name or ugly mug on everything that doesn’t move, including a commemorative $250 bill. He generates daily “fuck yous” to us and we watch as he deteriorates before our eyes—in all the ways a moron can deteriorate.

This nation is only 250 years old. In some ways, it has blossomed in that time. But in other ways, we’re still young and immature, behaving like an angry, needy teenager.

And it doesn’t help to have an angry, needy teenager at the helm.

Immersed

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Daily writing prompt
What’s the first book you ever finished and still remember to this day?
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I was read to early on, so it’s likely that we finished a few books, but I can’t remember the first one I finished on my own, until high school. It might have been either of a couple mentioned in other posts– To Kill A Mockingbird, or A Separate Peace.

Come to think of it, I read a few of the Doc Savage series from cover to cover, so it actually might have been one of those.

Some Words to Live By

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Daily writing prompt
What’s the most profound piece of advice you’ve been given? Did you take it?
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There have been many pieces of advice along the way, words and actions and such from parents and others. But the one that seems to have drilled the deepest into the memory banks is from a poster in my third grade classroom: “Maturity is the ability to forego the immediate pleasure in favor of the long-term gain.” Or something like that.

Seems pretty deep for a roomful of 8- and 9-year-olds. This pearl has been rattling around in my brain for a long time, though I haven’t always taken it to heart.

For Starters

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Daily writing prompt
If you had an unlimited budget for 24 hours, what would you do?
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I guess it would depend on whether or not I knew in advance that this opportunity would be coming– lots of ducks to get in a row.

Maybe I’d insist on allocating funding for all the departments and programs that have taken a DOGE hit, like NIH and vaccine research; probably donate to many a Democrat’s campaign fund, bolster the funding for after-school lunches, give a shot in the arm to some local municipal budgets so they can fix their roads and bolster healthcare options, try to talk my wife into buying a bigger property, and buy a vehicle that’s more useful and easier to get in and out of.

Blasts From the Past

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a show that had the perfect series finale?
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I can’t recall many, since I haven’t watched many, but I’ll say either M*A*S*H, or Cheers. It turns out Season 3 of Ted Lasso wasn’t the last season after all.

Oh, and the series finale of Newhart— maybe not perfect, since perfection is such a subjective thing, but unexpected and memorable for all the right reasons.

Storminess Ahead

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When it comes to the champion vote getter in an opinion survey regarding worst Presidents, it is difficult to believe that any historian worth the moniker could point to someone other than Donald Trump.

I can’t imagine anyone coming close to Trump’s abject emptiness, his total lack of empathy, his dismissive attitude, or his willingness to say or do anything to hold onto power and avoid consequences.

He is a lying, soulless monster, outrageously unfit for the job. He and his cling-on sons— as well as everyone else who still, somehow, supports him—are heading for a fall, but they will do more damage before that eventuality arises.

What confounds most anyone who cares is that so many apparently believed he was a breath of fresh air, that he could achieve even a small percentage of the great promises that rolled off his forked tongue.

Turns out he had no intention of doing any of that. He can’t do anything but find ways to enrich himself, make life miserable for those he believes have done him wrong, and make the people at The Heritage Foundation very happy.

Seventy-seven million people voted for a do-nothing, know-nothing, ill-intentioned carpetbagger. And now we must expect that the wheels are turning when it comes to abandoning any remaining vestiges of sanity and restraint, ahead of the upcoming mid-term elections.