So Brett Kavanaugh has been confirmed. Susan Collins provided the clinching vote. She’s in the dog house with a lot of folks right now, but I can’t imagine she’s losing much sleep over this.

Anyway, Kavanaugh gets his appointment for life. Trump gets to gloat and act like an immature middle-schooler egged on by his classmates, the Republicans get to back-slap and congratulate one another, and the rest of us are left to wonder if indeed we are barking up the wrong tree, crying over spilled milk, too sensitive and pie-eyed and idealistic for our own good.

Why is it, though, that the Republicans seem like the Evil Empire? There’s just something “off” about the whole lot of them, and it’s summed up in Trump the opportunist. What are we missing about this guy that his supporters somehow get?

The feelings that are stirring now are feelings of extreme frustration, downright visceral dislike. It seems all about winning and losing, and we are losing alot. We know something is wrong but can’t do anything about it. The Democrats seem absolutely impotent, and the Republicans are practicing some sort of dark magic, operating in the shadows and somehow prevailing.

Nothing like a thorough FBI investigation with time constraints. “Leave no stone unturned- as long as you’re done by Friday.”

The Republicans may get their man on the SC bench. But doesn’t it seem like Brett Kavanaugh is damaged goods now? Especially after his stellar turn at the mic on 9/27.

Sometimes you just need to stay up all night and have a camera at the ready. Nature provides the palette.

Why is it that the tactics and criticism in political circles seem often reduced to the most sleasy common denominator? The skeleton in the closet often enough is an unwanted sexual advance, an ill-advised, often alcohol-fueled brain fart that, at the very least, reflects a skewed sense of privilege and entitlement, and may or may not indicate some deep-seated character flaw. And it certainly offers up a convenient red flag for those with political motivations of their own.

I have no intentions of defending Brett Kavanaugh or questioning the motives of Ms. Blasey-Ford or Ms. Ramirez, or those who sought their stories. I don’t know the man or what he’s done as a judge. I do know that, in the opinion of the person currently taking up space in the Oval Office, Kavanaugh has emerged as the candidate of choice to replace Anthony Kennedy on the Supreme Court. And this fact, as much as any current accusations made against Mr. Kavanaugh, is what concerns me.

There is a method to the Republican madness, which is to stack the SCOTUS with conservative-minded justices. In Trump’s case, a justice that may treat him kindly if the Mueller investigation offers up any damning accusations.

There’s enough licentiousness to go around. There always has been, if one digs deep enough. If there is justice and catharsis to be realized for Ms. Ford and Ms. Ramirez, then those will be good things for them, and long overdue.

In purely karmic, unabashed eye-for-an-eye, what-goes-around-comes-around fashion, I’d love to see enough doubt raised regarding Kavanaugh’s character to sink his nomination, if for no other reason than it evens the score with regard to the whole Merrick Garland saga.

Listening to the TED radio hour the other day, it’s become clear that anyone who can package time-tested principles in new wrapping can get their 15 minutes of fame. A well-educated individual was talking about commitment as if she had discovered the concept.

The self-help section at Barnes and Noble is full of allegedly helpful, “life-changing” information written by enterprising men and women. Apart from the motivation generated by contractual obligations to publishers, how can they always have so much to say?

Kudos to them for making a living at it, though. I wonder how often they take their own advice.

I’m not understanding the beef with Colin Kaepernick and Nike.

How many times do people need to be reminded that the players’ protest isn’t a trolling of the nation’s military? It’s not a slight aimed at our nation’s men and women in uniform, or an affront to Old Glory.

People who have a problem with the protest also probably voted for Donald Trump, a man who doesn’t know what he believes except that he needs to hold onto his base, must appeal to some blind, unquestioning sense of patriotism. 

Cue the indignant people everywhere who maybe would give a nod to injustice and unequal treatment under the law as long as no one messes with their precious NFL and its culture of legalized, testosterone-fueled mayhem. Because that’s the real slice of Americana.

Better to salute that than someone who’s risked his dream job trying to get our attention.

I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth…

I believe there is a piano in our living room because I can see it and play it. I believe I live in a sea of breathable elements because I’m breathing and alive. But I have no idea whether or not there is a God who created the universe and has been and is involved with us in this slog through an invented construct called time.

Looking around, one might think that something extraordinary is going on. But is this sense of wonder a working of the Spirit? God-given faith?  Or merely reflective of our limited human capacity to process information– i.e., if we can’t get our heads around something, do we just file it in the God folder?

Sometimes I think we’re left with one of two over-simplified scenarios: either everything is ultimately explained away by science and laws of physics and such, or it was all created and set in motion, and the creator has pretty much said, “Here you go. Now have at it and figure it out.”

Lately I’ve been leaning toward the former, even though my current vocation necessitates a certain buy-in re the latter.

Either way, enough mystery already.

There was an editorial in the local paper a couple days ago entitled, “A bad man can be a good president.” I started reading the article but stopped when I had a “Wait, what?” moment and began thinking about that premise. How can such a theory gain any traction? A bad man can be a good president. Are you fucking kidding me?

So is this what we’ve come to– defending Trump at any cost by laying out reasons why he’s still doing a good job, even as he gives us multiple reasons to believe he’s a cold-hearted narcissist who has no idea what he’s doing?

I don’t know what to do with this, except to explain why it feels so wrong.

The “good” he’s done might be good in the opinion of the modern day Republican, who somehow manages to exist in a time warp with little evidence of a functioning heart, who operates in the rarefied air of abject ignorance and reprehensible selfishness, who reacts out of spite and fear and a narrow-minded religious and patriotic fervor, seemingly hell-bent on preserving an America that doesn’t- or shouldn’t- exist anymore.

I can’t pretend to understand such a stance, this defense of the indefensible. But therein lies our dilemma: to many, many people, Donald Trump is some sort of hero. 

It all seems so inconceivable. And irreconcilable.

The contrast couldn’t be greater. The current Oval Office occupant declares, during the campaign, that he prefers war heroes that don’t get caught. This from someone who never served but claims he might as well have. Huh?

John McCain’s death provided the opportunity for the person masquerading as President to offer at least a few kind words in memory of a man who served his country well. But the buffoon had to be talked into saying a few relatively nice things.

Trump may prefer heroes who don’t get caught.

Well, I prefer Presidents who aren’t assholes.

I guess Ben Franklin was in on it, but who else helped hatch the idea of insurance? When was it that people sat around a table, perhaps a tankard of ale in hand, brainstorming ideas about how to make boatloads of money and offer a little something to the ones who bought in? Let’s call them policyholders.

That’s what insurance is, isn’t it- a scheme to make money while presenting the appearance of offering a benefit? In a perfect world, pay-outs would be minimal and the benefits one-sided. People pay premiums for decades, for peace of mind and coverage they may never need, while the insurance companies just keep looking for bigger vaults and blimps to buy and golf tournaments to underwrite.  Their CEOs spend time with Jim Nance on Sunday afternoons presenting a human face, talking up their altruism and visibility in the community.

It’s based on statistical likelihoods and spreading risk, so it’s quite complicated yet also formulaic. It’s a game for number crunchers and schmoozers, where the bottom line is the bottom line.  It’s offered by agents who present a veneer of caring and concern but who are motivated to sell policies that enrich the company and enhance their own financial well-being.

The concept of insurance is great until there’s an accident or an earthquake or a hurricane or a fire or a major illness and these companies actually have to follow through and pay out. Then say hello to higher premiums, or dropped coverage and more restrictive small print.