Massah, the cotillion ball is to begin. Your “ladies” are waiting….
Our destiny: to cross the sea of life on a raft of words. —David P. Gantar
Today I awakened and felt numb. The 45th president of the United States, Donald J. Trump will take the oath of office. I woke to a real life Jerry Springer “show” where the guests have chosen one of their own to be the host,—for four years. One of their own, certainly not in terms of wealth, but in terms of absence of manners and basic knowledge. I’ve heard others say, “we’ll have to just wait to see how he does.” What are we to wait for? It is not as if Trump suddenly materialized and we have no idea of his character and mode of acting. “Wait and see” is just crass denial.
So the inauguration coronation will be the public spectacle that it always has been. I will not be following the proceedings. I must carry on. There is work to be done, people that I care about, that I depend upon who have claim upon my time and focus. The events today in Washington have a similarity to a Star Wars movie—a grand expensive spectacle, lacking continuity, no character development, and a plot full of holes. To my sensibility there is absence of meaning in the political practice of our country. Elections are meaningless spectacles costing enormous sums, funded anonymously by foundations anticipating long term return on “investment.” Politicians rarely transform into statesmen in office doing the dull, drudgery of compromise necessary to sound law making. Forever “running” for office, they do not cease bloviating, or crying in front of the cameras.
We have elected someone who has sold our cow for a hand full of magic beans. This story is not going to end with a bag of gold coins, a goose laying golden eggs, or a harp that plays by itself.
