Monday, the day after a 2nd attempt to assassinate the former president… The Secret Service detected someone with a weapon in proximity to where Trump was finishing up a round of golf at his club. The assailant was arrested a short while later. Trump, ever the bloviating self-promoter immediately tweeted to his sycophants that he was safe, and he began fund raising…

This longish quotation is near to the end of Beyond Good and Evil. Nietzsche suggests that the voice of divinity is quiet, akin to seduction, is personalized to the recipient. I need quieten myself in order to hear the whisper of the experimenter god*, that pied piper to my conscience… Quieter, quieter, press closer to hear better! Have we not our fill of bombast, of grandiloquence from promoters, and from Trump? It is not the volume, or the insistence, or the drumbeat of noise that matters finally. The genius that is as close as our own heart is the voice I must listen to!  And you too my friend!

The genius of the heart,
as it is possessed by that great hidden one,
the tempter god*
and born pied piper of consciences,
whose voice knows how to descend into the underworld of every soul,
whose every word and every glance
conveys both consideration and a wrinkle of temptation,

whose mastery includes an understanding of how to seem
– not like what he is
but rather like one more compulsion
for his followers to keep pressing closer to him,
to keep following him more inwardly and thoroughly:

– the genius of the heart,
that makes everything loud and complacent
fall silent and learn to listen,
that smooths out rough souls
and gives them the taste of a new desire,
– to lie still,
like a mirror that the deep sky can
mirror itself upon

–; the genius of the heart,
that teaches the foolish and over-hasty hand
to hesitate and reach out more delicately;
that guesses the hidden and forgotten treasure,
the drop of goodness and sweet spirituality
under thick, dull ice,
and is a divining rod for every speck of gold
that has long been buried
in a prison of mud and sand;

the genius of the heart,
that enriches everyone who has come into contact with it,
not making them blessed or surprised,
or leaving them feeling as if
they have been gladdened or saddened by external goods;
rather, they are made richer in themselves,
  newer than before,
    broken open,
      blown on,
        and sounded out by a thawing wind,
          perhaps less certain, more gentle, fragile, and broken,

but full of hopes that do not have names yet,
full of new wills and currents,
full of new indignations and counter-currents . . .

Beyond Good and Evil, By Friedrich Nietzsche, trans, by Judith Norman, aphorism 295

Always, always there is a song, like a flying banner that will carry us into this day.  Where The Streets Have No Name by U2.