Does anyone believe that something good will come out of the summit between Trump and Putin? I saw an interview with some Ukraine-Russia pundit last night, and the guy said this meeting in Alaska isn’t really about Ukraine.

Well, when is that effort going to commence, then?

A country that’s been under siege for three and a half years is waiting to hear its fate, and with no seat at the table, apparently. Putin isn’t going to budge, one can pretty much bet on that. And Trump doesn’t know his ass from his elbow, apart from a self-assessed acumen for “deal-making.”

This summit has farce written all over it.

Humans are just animals with a more evolved brain that often doesn’t get used to its full potential.

Dad took my brothers and me golfing for the first time when I was around 14 or 15, I think, though it might have been earlier. There was a 9-hole course in town that provided a decent spot for learning the game. The unique feature of this course was a set of stone markers, one by the club house, the other on the 9^th fairway, that denoted the landing and launch, respectively, of the world’s first liquid-fueled rocket by Robert Goddard in 1926.

I don’t remember where we got our first clubs—maybe we played out of Dad’s bag. In any event, I’ve been playing golf ever since, off and on, never getting really good at it, but at least able to hold my own if we play in tournaments or just for fun. It’s a relatively expensive game to play on a regular basis, so I don’t get out much. And I got my current set of clubs from my brother, who was a connoisseur of fine golf equipment.

The infrequency with which I play means that I have no reason to expect any consistency or to see much improvement. I’ve sort of plateaued in that respect. Still, whenever we get out, it’s great fun, an enjoyable time spent with people you like, in settings that are often well cared for and pleasing to the eye. Dad set the tone for that aspect of the experience—he loved being with his peeps, and he reveled in the scenery.

Golf has provided much enjoyment over the years. It’s a great game, so much more than chasing a little white ball around a field. And playing it myself only deepens the appreciation for the folks who play professionally. I envy that they get to win crazy sums of money, but am also appreciative of their level of proficiency. They’re crazy good at it, yet still have those occasional rounds where we are all reminded that they are human after all. The game has a way of humbling even the most accomplished players.  

In an absolute nightmare scenario, resistance looks like wave after wave of demonstrators trying to breach barricades, storming the Capitol and the White House, intent on rooting out Trump and his cast of misfits in an effort to get their attention and confront them with their cold villainy.

Law enforcement, National Guard, maybe the Marines and January 6^th pardonees would likely not take kindly to such assaults, and demonstrators would be treated poorly, violently, with deadly force. There is a bloodbath at the seat of power, all because massively skewed priorities have finally been confronted by the belief that government of, by, and for the people is an ideal worth dying for.

Backing away from that worst case, what we currently see is Maddow and Hayes and a bunch of pundits preaching to their choirs, trying to keep the abuse in front of us but having little effect on what at the moment appears to be a stunningly unstoppable force intent on tearing America apart.

We get our daily dose of Senators and lawyers and vloggers railing against Trump and trying to rally us troops, but Trump just keeps destroying the rain forest and putting in place the means to stay in power indefinitely. He’s blown through the checks and balances, with the exception of an occasional judicial delay. Still, there is an ill wind of inevitability blowing, hints that we cannot, much longer, simply give voice to our dissatisfaction and concern. Even the ballot box won’t save us. The cost of resisting is going to get steeper.

Can this be true?

He is blatantly horrible. But he made it sound like he was gonna fix everything. People believed him, and now he’s back in office for another go ‘round. Unfathomable but true.

The latest attempt at a distraction from the Epstein story is federal agents patrolling the streets of our nation’s capital—you know, to keep the citizens safe from marauding hordes.

He’s desperate, folks, pulling out all the stops. There must be a long list of Things I Can Do To Distract the Public.

Good luck in Alaska, you dim-witted troll.