Pressure Cooker

I’ve tried to flesh this out before, but it’s worth a fresh attempt every now and then. When I look at what is happening in this country on any given day, I come away feeling like we are living in at least two distinct realities. Well, three realities. Ok, two and a fantasy world– Trump has always operated in his own little bubble, used to whining and, if not getting what he wants, then meting out his own brand of justice, whether it’s a retributive ousting from a post, or a relentless and childish Twitter barrage slandering someone who disagrees with him, or of whom he is jealous.

Many of his supporters behave like barely sentient beings who buy the stock Trumpian/Republican talking points about freedom and low taxes and deregulation and Mexican rapists and “liberals are evil socialists” and “no one takes our guns away.” Oh, and Covid-19 is just gonna magically disappear.

Meanwhile, many others are wondering if they’ve ever been or will ever be heard, if there is even a place for them in America.

Trump really only cares about himself and those who can help him. He doesn’t have the capacity for empathy, he has neither the interest nor the energy to address the needs of anyone who doesn’t benefit him in some way. He is quid pro quo personified.

If Trump ends up pulling this off, what can’t get lost in the post-election furor is that he cheated his ass off. And it won’t be “Hey, that’s politics.” It will be premeditated, criminal thievery and obstruction. Yet he will be proud as a peacock, all puffed up because he got away with it, again! And he’ll be expecting kudos for his serpentine shrewdness.

It’s all just a game to him. He really doesn’t care about America. He is a warped, lost soul, in love with being the top dog.

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