Kleptocracy. As in “klepto”, as in kleptomaniac, someone who has an apparently uncontrollable urge to steal things.

Kleptocracy, a.k.a. thievocracy, is the label often given to whatever it is that passes for governance in Russia, where Putin and the rest of the oligarchs live to steal the country’s vast resources and consolidate power.

Nice.

Of course, such a label is administered from the outside. Putin would never describe things this way. He’d most likely tell you that he’s a patriot, just one who pines for the way his country used to be.

The kleptocracy label is left to the rest of the world that’s watching, while the Soviet-era holdovers make threats and gloat as increasingly lethal weaponry is introduced that makes life even more tenuous and terrifying and miserable for the people of Ukraine.  

Trump’s picks for Cabinet positions and others are coming under fire, meeting with predictable derision.

Not all of them, though. Some, apparently, are competent, or at least have experience in the fields they’ve been assigned to lead. But one has to figure that all of them are pre-ordained by Kevin Roberts and the fine folks at the Heritage Foundation (even Matt Gaetz?). I find it difficult to believe that Trump would take the time or make the effort to make a list, but he must have some say in the process.

What’s the proper word for what we’re watching here?

Some humans, dogs, and butterflies.

Other humans are scourges and serve no useful purpose.

Dogs can be grace-filled gifts.

Butterflies arrive after a fascinating transformation, and they grace our presence for only a short while. They add beauty and lightness as they flit about.

Hypersonic missiles. Apparently, no Western defense system can stop them.

Putin has the technology and recently used it as a shot across the bow and in response to Ukraine’s foray into Russia with American-made missiles.

Like so much else, it seems to be about bragging rights and high stakes pissing contests.

How different would life be if we spent a fraction of our waking hours working on solutions for the myriad ills and challenges we all face, instead of investing so much brain power and raw materials in implements of war and destruction?

Humans are good at war, which is truly nothing to brag about.

Sixty-one years ago, to the day. I was nine, in fourth grade. Mr. Braley’s room.

Mrs. Kreuger was crying. She never cried. She made other people cry, most often us kids. Mrs. Shmaltz came across the hall to point out the flag that had already been lowered to half-mast.

We went home a bit early—or did we make it to the end of the day? I can’t remember anymore. I just remember the quietness as we waited for the bus in the multi-purpose room.

I remember being glued to the square box that passed for a TV. All weekend. I saw Oswald get shot, in real time.

Turns out that, as a nation, the losses were only beginning to mount. And we would never be the same, whatever that means.

I remember going to the beach– the squawk of the gulls, the smell of the air, seeing the expanse of nothing but water all the way to the horizon and being impressed with that every time. It was somewhere in Rhode Island, occasionally in New Hampshire. We’d load up the station wagon and camp at a state park that was close enough to the ocean to warrant a visit.

I most likely got sunburned. That happened a lot. So, out would come the Noxema when we got home.

I have to say that the mountains get my pick, though. I spent a fair amount of time in New Hampshire every fall during my teen years and beyond, climbing in the White Mountains. I had the opportunity to get to Philmont Scout Ranch, in Cimarron, NM, where we hiked for over a week in the Sangre de Cristo range of the southern Rockies.

After I was out of Boy Scouts, sometime in the Fall, we’d still make it a point to go with my Dad and some guys from the troop and drive to New Hampshire and climb another four thousand footer or higher– Moosilauke, the Franconia Ridge, Osceola, Garfield, Washington. We made three attempts on Washington and got to the summit twice– the weather can be iffy in the Presidental Range, especially on Washington.

There was something about the ascent. It was work, no doubt, some serious exercise. But it was also the comradery, the scenery, the quietness, the often other-worldly views from the summits, where we’d sit and ponder and sometimes eat our lunch. There was a sense of accomplishment, of modest conquest, and an always-deepening appreciation for the size and magnificence of the planet.

At the end of the hikes, sometimes we’d return to a campsite, but in the later years, we’d make the 4-plus hour drive from central Massachusetts, do the hike, and turn around and drive home the same day– always a full day, well spent.

*Daily Writing Prompt

Why are people fleeing America? Well, people of means, anyway. Where are they gonna go where they wouldn’t ultimately be affected anyway by whatever transpires in another Trump administration? This seems like an extreme reaction to our current circumstances.

Do they feel threatened in some way? Are they worried about being victims of the Trump retribution he hints will be coming? Or is it more that they just don’t like the prospects of living in a country run by amateurs and fascists, and they have a lifestyle they need to maintain?

The flip side of escaping is that they look like cowards, like they’re skipping town without giving thought to staying put and being part of whatever restoration might be called for. Just lookin’ out for their families, they’ll tell themselves.

We’d all love to live in peace and safety, but some sort of shit is liable to hit the fan, no matter where they decide to run to. Might as well stay here and be part of the resistance.

It’s tough having to use that “r” word in reference to our elected leaders. Maddening, too. But here we are.

A fourth grader who pays attention to what’s going on in the world could probably predict that hostilities are going to escalate in Ukraine. When Biden gives the OK to use long range missiles on Russia—after Russia employs North Korean troops, of course—then the Kremlin lowers its threshold for nuclear engagement, how long does anyone think it will be before some form of hell breaks loose?

We’re all getting front row seats to the next global round of insanity.

The people of Ghana have every right to be miffed. All the detritus that gets shipped to its shores? Cars no one wants, computers and all manner of electrical waste no one wants, clothing no one wants.

Looks like a lot of it ends up in Accra, to be sorted through and burned and salvaged and then dumped in the Atlantic only to get washed back up on shore.

It does provide income for people, but let’s be real: it’s unimaginably hazardous and wasteful, we’re engaging in thoughtless consumption and over-production, and there are no more places for our stuff.

Costs of all kinds are outweighing benefits, and who really appreciates living in or near a landfill?

Dr. Oz for CMS, another Fox personality for something else, and all we can do is watch. Half the country gets to hold its breath and its nose as the Heritage Foundation assembles the most ridiculous class of nominees in the history of nominees.

It’s hard to see how these people are going to usher in the change that voters, supposedly, are hoping for– unless this change is not actually change at all, but rather decomposition, destruction, and chaos on an unrivaled scale.

Put ass-kissing amateurs in high-profile, challenging posts, and you’ll get the unraveling you’re looking for, without any regard for the people who will be hurt. And if an unscheduled and unwarranted Congressional recess is somehow pushed through, then there’s no telling what else is gonna get thrown out with the bath water.

How is this any good at all? What is the ultimate goal of Vance and Yarvin and Miller and Roberts and the rest? And why do they get to decide? Who the hell are these people?!

Trump? He’s a spineless marionette. And it’s looking like the rest of us are being played for the same thing.

WTF, America?