Helsinki Sinkhole

I guess I don’t really care…
Trump and Putin at Helsinki
Photo: YURI KADOBNOV/AFP/Getty Images
…about all the bullshit patriotic complaints about Donald Trump’s wimpy show in Helsinki yesterday. If the United States were a sports team (something else I don’t care about, by the way), it would have been a defeat, and a humiliating one. He truly showed himself to be a coward, and to the extent that he is seen as representing the U.S., it was embarrassing. Putin clearly was the boss of Trump.
But we as Americans can’t act as if we are shocked, shocked! to learn that nations meddle in each others business, or that by “standing up to Putin” our idiot president would have been supporting The American Way of Life, or furthering the values of justice and truth. All he would have been doing is NOT embarrassing us all, and NOT acting like the chickenshit little weasel that he appears to be.
American presidents are always judged by how tough or how lax they appear to be on the world stage, and most of them play the game they are expected to play, because they want to get reelected, or they want their party to gain seats in Congress. The power they are struggling to maintain is breathtaking, they know the voters (and the Other Party) are watching, and they will take part in pretty much any political theater that allows them to keep their power.
Donald Trump is different. I know a lot of voters chose him for exactly that reason: he’s different. And in a way I can’t blame them, after seeing so many politicians turn out to be like all other politicians, after they’re elected. Unfortunately, Trump is different in a bad way: He really doesn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone but himself.  He is ignorant, selfish and purely transactional. All Donald Trump wants to know is “What’s in it for me?” Continue reading “Helsinki Sinkhole”
Share this:

Molly the Cat is Gone

She had her way with us for 20 years…

…and now she has left us behind, left our world. I can clearly remember the day she strolled into our lives, a skinny, hungry stray kitten, eyeing my yogurt. Barb and I had both grown up with dogs, and we were unsure about this little girl. We had just moved into the house, the first place we’d had together where we could get a dog, and here was this scruffy little thing, needy, persistent, too proud to beg.

Continue reading “Molly the Cat is Gone”

Share this: