The 8th Month....'Trumped' Again....

 

 

August is like the third or fourth kid in the calendar family.

Theoretically, it gets all the attention of its sibling months, but, inevitably, if unintentionally, it tends to live on the periphery of the spotlight, not to mention the limelight, that bathes the eleven others. 

January..how about Times Square, ball dropping, party on, Garth....not mention a little pigskin, punt, pass and kicking get together known as ....the....Super.....Bowl.....I mean, hello....

February...three words, Benjamin.....Valentine's. Day. Chocolate.

March...thanks to that snake banishing superstar, St. Patrick, malts and hops, in an assortment of colors, flow like the uber healthy bladder of a teenager...

April...Tax Day tries to buzzkill, but, those sweet 'showers' and, for many, the main mama of all rocks rolled away from tombs make April a family fave....oh...not to mention three words, Benjamin.....Easter. Bunny. Chocolate.

May...probably comes closest to the obscurity that August endures, but, hey, if nothing else, we're talkin' the psychological, if not official, "start of summer"....surf's up, dudes....

June...four words, Benjamin (courtesy of Alice)....school's. out. for. summer.

July...well, if the spectacular, sparkling explosions filling the night sky over the nation's Capitol don't rattle your heart's windows, July also marks the first real opportunity we have to fulfill that nasty yearly health insurance deductible with that hurried race to the ER in an effort to get one or more of those fingers reattached....courtesy of unwise fuse lighting decisions involving Black Cats....

September...Labor Day ..symbolically, the end of summer ("boooooo", said the kids)....officially, the beginning of the new school year ("yaaaaaaay", screamed the parents....)....

October....again, need we even bother with two more words when...."chocolate" sums in up like Jamie Lee screaming down the block? okay, here's two other words...pumpkin. spice....  Sorry you couldn't let it go with chocolate, now, aren't ya.....

November...the first of the two calendar kids who are, regardless of what anybody says and/or denies, the "favorites"....after all, turkey...and stuffing/dressing....mashed potatoes....pie.....not to mention more punt, pass and kicking....and hey......again, HELLO.....giant SNOOPY floating through downtown Manhattan???

and, of course.....

December...frankly, it's embarrassing to think we even have to think about listing anything here....but, if you insist, December, obviously, brings with it the family tradition that supersedes and usurps all the other family traditions, hands down, no joke, we ain't kiddin......the kabillion hours long marathon repeat showings of "A Christmas Story"..... up on the housetop, I triple dog dare ya....down through the chimney...only to end up shootin' your eye out.....

Meanwhile....alas, poor August.

Summer? Mostly only dog days. 

Any possibility of a holiday we could justify and/or rationalize copious candy consumption? Not likely given that the fifth through the eleventh is "National Smile Week' and nothing yanks the reins in on Reese's Cups like seven days of focus on good dental hygiene.

Of course, there is the 3rd, which is National Watermelon Day. But our parents only got away with that crap they pulled about watermelon being a "dessert" until we got wise...sometime around two years old, give or take.

Now, admittedly August holds its own in the calendar pecking order when it comes to 'historical observances.

6th, 1945....the first atomic bomb persuaded Japan to rethink their plan to expand their borders.

6th, 1965....the Voting Rights Act passed....permanently awarding that right to everyone who was qualified....'permanently' as in, right up until MAGA went from fad to standard operating procedure and its mob members realized that titanic turnouts almost always mean sinking ships...

16th, 1896...the first Gold Rush....of course, that sort of faded into the history books once Black Friday came along and the Canadian Yukon took a back seat to every Wal Mart and Target from sea to shining sea....

and the 21st, 1959...Hawaii became the 50th state in the Union....yeah, okay....except that things being what they are these days, the term "union" is fast becoming an oxymoron....and a case can be made that had Hawaii remained a distant paradise, we mainlanders would never have had to dealt with this pineapple on the pizza profanity.....

Still, years of being a bastard calendar stepchild notwithstanding, August 2024 promises to be a spotlight/limelight grabber in a bigly way.

Hold that thought.

We'll save the date shortly.

Paul Blumenthal is a senior reporter for the Huffington Post, his primary area of attention being politics.

He posted a piece this weekend on what the (inevitably) overly melodramatic headline offers is "Donald Trump's Most Dangerous Argument Yet".

Here's some excerpts.

Donald Trump is trying to quash his indictment for the attempt to steal the 2020 election by arguing before a federal appeals court that presidents have an “absolute immunity” from criminal prosecution, even after leaving office.

Trump’s claim of absolute immunity comes in the federal case charging him with four felony counts related to his efforts to overturn his reelection loss that led up to the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection. The former president also faces a state prosecution in Georgia over attempts to steal the state’s election, a federal case related to illegally taking classified documents, and a trial in New York over hush money payments to a porn actor.

In his appeal in the federal election theft case, Trump makes two arguments. The first is that he has permanent absolute immunity from criminal prosecution for any acts undertaken during his presidency. The second is that under the theory of double jeopardy, he cannot face criminal charges for acts upon which he was impeached but not convicted.

“The structure of our government, the text of the Constitution and its early commentators, common-law immunity doctrines, our political history, the Supreme Court’s analogous immunity doctrines, and the policy considerations rooted in the separation of powers all dictate that no President, current or former, may be criminally prosecuted for his official acts unless he is first impeached and convicted by the Senate,” Trump’s appeal brief states.

But his arguments run counter to centuries of judicial precedent and constitutional interpretation, as well as the intent of the Constitution’s authors and the very conception of the United States as a democratic republic governed by the rule of law enshrined in a constitution.

Aside from flying in the face of the nation’s history and system of government, both of Trump’s arguments would create perverse incentives for presidents to break the law to stay in office, and for their partisans in Congress to immunize them from criminal prosecution by impeaching but not convicting them.

“The defendant’s sweeping immunity claim threatens to license Presidents to commit crimes to remain in office,” Justice Department special counsel Jack Smith argued in a brief filed with the appeals court last week.

Under this theory, a president would be immune from prosecution if they directed “the FBI Director to plant incriminating evidence on a political enemy” or instructed “the National Guard to murder his most prominent critics,” according to Smith’s brief. And a president could avoid an impeachment conviction by “inciting his supporters during a State of the Union address to kill opposing lawmakers—thereby hamstringing any impeachment proceeding—to ensure that he remains in office unlawfully.”

Taken to its most extreme logical conclusion, the theory would allow President Joe Biden to abduct Trump and hold him in a black site prison or kill him, and potentially face no legal consequences, as Huff Post’s S.V. Date writes.

That last example, however absurd it might seem to the average knee jerker, brings a specific and critically important matter into focus.

The rule of law. What is essentially the foundation upon which "the Republic" stands.

And the question that has historically never been asked, let alone answered.

Finally coming around to being asked.

And absolutely in need of a written in stone, no bullshit allowed answer.

Is anyone....A N Y O N E.....above the law? 

Actor Bill Mumy, famous for his childhood work on "The Twilight Zone", "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" and his teen years as "Will Robinson" as in "....danger, Will Robinson" in the hit Sixties series, "Lost In Space", is a Facebook friend. Artistic and articulate, Bill often coda's his sharings with what has become a sort of 'unregistered trademark'....

"time", he offers, "is a bizarre river."

As does the legendary Smokey Robinson, I "second that emotion".

And Bill's insight strikes a particularly poignant chord for me this new year.

This year I turn seventy three.

Which means, of course, that I am currently living out that seventy third year.

And while it's not exactly Robert Frost poetic, a commonly recognized phrase has taken up, of late, some rental space in my synaptics.

"...I know a thing or two....because I've seen a thing or two..."

While it's reasonable to realize that every life, once it passes a certain age, can lay claim to having experienced things that past generations have not, it's equally reasonable to counter that there are a number of things that have occurred as I've traveled through certain sections of Mr. Mumy's 'bizarre river' that count as "firsts", more accurately "unusual, unique....even once in a lifetime" kinds of things....

Among entries of occurrence in my particular personal travelog....

...the Twenty Second Amendment, limiting a president to two terms....an amendment that is almost surely currently living in the crosshairs of victims of tanning salon overdoses and bad orange comb overs.....

...the first conviction and execution of a civilian couple for committing espionage....the Rosenbergs, Julius and Ethel, not to be confused with Fred and Ethel who were seemingly law abiding but, ironically, these days are surely better known....

...the first nuclear submarine, USS Nautilus,  named after the sinister ship in Jules Verne's "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea"....

...the election of the first Catholic to the office of President of the United States....a world shaking event superseded less than three years later by....

...the assassination of the first Catholic elected to the office of President of the Unites States...a world shattering event that some suggest, from which, the nation, at least, has never fully recovered...

...the passage of the first comprehensive Civil Rights Act....putting on paper and into law, a set of moral guidelines that, arguably, made so much that was wrong right...and, irrefutably, should never have been necessary in the first place...

...the landing of the first human beings on the Moon... one small step for a man...one giant leap for mankind...and, most heatedly in the past ten years or so, still doubted or disbelieved by a large enough number of, theoretically, "intelligent Americans" to be of grave concern for the future of mankind....

...the first American President to resign from office...disgraced, after being all but convicted of approving a third rate burglary in order to gain an advantage over political opponents....and an extraordinary example of 'bad timing'....for had Richard Nixon run in 2016 as opposed to 1968/72, he could have not only scored four years in the Oval, he could have enjoyed the luxury of showing off classified documents to all his peeps, gotten big laughs making fun of disabled reporters, relaxed from the stress of office by grabbing the occasional pussy and, of course, skipped over the silly "enemies list" he was known for and moved right on to the "send the mob down the street and burn the building with the big dome on it right to the ground.....oh...and hang Agnew..."....tough luck, Dick....

 ...the election of the first black to the office of President of the United States....an obviously historic occasion which will, sadly, almost tragically, be remembered in generations to come as eight years of a scandal free, if basically average, presidency....marred only by the catastrophic mistake of the President making fun, at a White House Correspondents Association dinner...of a victim of tanning bed overdoses and a bad orange comb over....who, possessed of absolutely no genetic ability to have a sense of humor or humility about himself, decided, that very night, to run, as retribution, for the office of President of the United States himself....the joke at the time, of course, being that his 'candidacy' was a joke....the joke, as it turned out, was that thinking it was a joke turned out to be absolutely nothing resembling funny....

...the first major attack on the continental United States by foreigners, resulting in the deaths of thousands of Americans, the total destruction of the World Trade Center, the major damaging of the Pentagon and the loss of forty authentically brave passengers who brought down an airliner that was determined later to be on a trajectory to destroy as much of Washington DC as possible....

...the first directed and undeniable attack on the nation's Capitol by a thousands strong 'lynch mob' of "Americans", incited to that attack by a, then, "President" of the United States.

And...come November 2024, the very real possibility that history will, in one of its more cruelest methods of pranking....repeat itself.

At least in terms of re-electing what was a once, and future, joke.

And August?

By August of this year, both of what passes these days for the 'Republican' Party and the Democratic Party will have held their conventions, nominated their nominees and set their nominees loose on an already exhausted nation of "we, the people".... the Democrats, as a matter of fact, meeting in August itself in Chicago.

Ending on August 22.

One week to the day before I turn seventy three.

Which is sixty nine days to the day before Election Day.

And the historic final episode of the historic first time drama of the possible election to the Presidency of the United States...of a very likely convicted felon who will have gotten his ruling from the Supreme Court of the United States as to whether or not he and, as a result, future Presidents of the United States are entitled, by law.....

...to be the only citizen in the entire population of the United States of America....

....exempt from the rule of law....and immune from prosecution, no matter the behavior, act and/or offense.

From amendments to espionage, elections to assassinations to resignations, from the chaos on Earth to the Sea of Tranquility, from the enemy forced collapse of major skyscrapers to the "making America great again" by assaulting the official headquarters of the "land of the free, home of the brave".....

I've seen a thing or two in seventy two years.

Seventy three years come August.

A month that has never really gotten its proper props.

A circumstance not likely to change any time soon.

Most surely not this year.

Given what's coming in November.

Turns Out The High Road Is Also Paved With Good Intentions.....

 

I'm a fan of the road less traveled.

In part, I assume, because I don't care for crowded anythings.

Or crowds, while we're at it.

Truth be told, any gathering of two or more and I start rehearsing exit lines in my hippocampus.

Asperger's?

Thanks, no. I'm already stocked up for life.

And because my inner GPS has me avoiding paths oft trod and beaten, I tend to discount, disregard or just flat out ignore garden variety "pundits".

"an expert in a particular subject or field who is frequently called on to give opinions about it to the public".

Okay. To both help clarify and save you the time of asking and/or researching, here's the answer to the question that surely springs to mind.

What's the difference between an expert and a pundit?

"Pundit" comes from the Hindi, "pandit". 

 

Which is derived from the Sanskrit "pandita" which means "learned man or scholar"

So the case can be made that "expert" is a learned scholar. 

And "pundit" is a learned scholar from India.

But we're actually talking about politics here.

And the difference has been more eloquently described as follows.

An expert knows and is learned.

A pundit knows how to take what they know and cash it in.

In other words, they get paid for their opinion.

No matter how 'learned'...or lacking....be that proffered and profitable opinion.

Nice work if you can get it.

All of this is by way of taking the long way around to offering that, when it comes to politics, especially politics, almost all "punditry" has an agenda. Especially since most all political punditry is being purchased.

So, I look elsewhere for my political perspective. Even if those I rely upon seemingly have nothing to do with politics.

Case in point.

Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francuei.

A French novelist, memoirst and journalist who lived in the 1800's. One of the most popular writers of her time, as a matter of fact. More renowned than, among others, Victor Hugo and Balzac.

If that name, by the way, doesn't ring a literary bell, it's most likely because Ms. Dupin de Francuei was better known by her less than feminine non de plume.

George Sand.

Her life and times are actually quite fascinating and well worth a scroll, download and/or "save file as" when you can find the time.

And she was no shy flower when it came to political opinion and observation in her time.

But that's not why I've added her to this discussion.

What caught my eye was one particular, short, sharp and very potent insight as regards one of humanity's more lethal character traits.

"Vanity", the lady Sand offered, "...is the quicksand of reason".

Well, now.

You go, girl.

Put a pin in that pointed perception.

We'll revisit that shortly.

Here's a plot twist my conservative, ultra and otherwise, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, readers and listeners were almost certainly not expecting.

Joe Biden needs to go.

And while the aforementioned right wing favoring friends, acquaintances, colleagues, readers and listeners take a moment to clean up from the inevitable spit takes that just occurred, let me take a moment to offer some what and why.

First, a somewhat interesting "what".

What I just said about Joe is not breaking news, a sudden epiphany or a change of heart after witnessing his presidency for the last, going on, four years now.

I was never particularly a Biden supporter in the first place. And I said as much, repeatedly and frequently, as far back on the time line as the first Democratic presidential primaries.

Back in 2020.

For those ready to lock and load with an eye toward firing a blast accusation of "selective/revised memory" on my part, I would refer you to hours of available audio somewhere in the vault of the Delaware talk radio station where I did a Sunday night program for several years.

No, actually, I'm not going to offer up days, dates, times and station call letters. First of all, and (with my most heartfelt Ricky Bobby sincerity as it applies to the iconic phrase)"with all due respect", what you're reading here is an editorial essay of personal opinion. And (and here's where Ricky comes in handy) "with all due respect", I couldn't care less if you believe me or not. So there's absolutely no need for proof in the pudding because there's going to be no pudding.

Just opinion.

And (thanks to those of you who are wondering and getting ready to ask) I know that it's opinion and not punditry cause I ain't makin' no money here no how.

Meanwhile, back at the Biden.

I have nothing against Joe. I had nothing against him five years ago when he stepped up and, pretty much right away, became the presumptive favorite for the Democratic nomination. My read on the guy has always been, and continues to be, that he is a good and decent man ("good and decent" always graded on a curve when applied to career politicians, so, yo, you nice folks sputtering and choking in a gag reflex to spew your snark about "good and decent", do yourselves and your trachea/throats a favor and don't waste your spew or spittle).

I thought then, and he has done nothing but prove me correct, that he was committed to do what he could to serve his country, undeniably possessed of all the flaws we mere mortals all possess to one degree or another, but with honor and integrity and (look, choke if you gotta...it's your throat lining and no concern of mine)...and...wait for it....decent and good intentions.

And if you're one of those who simply cannot let it lay there....and you have to rant and rave and rumble about graft and greed and corruption and sniffing people and getting handsy and Hunter and/or all the other poisonous p-too-ing that politics brings out in the less enlightened, then I will waste no time trying to convince you otherwise.

Because if you were intellectually and emotionally equipped to actually listen to and hear possible alternatives to your read on things, then you wouldn't be believing any of that silly shit to begin with. And me trying to persuade you that you're wrong would be as futile an effort as trying to make you see that your continued support, celebration, even worship of that orange con man facing a couple of hundred years in prison makes you look about as stupid as it's possible to look.

Keeping in mind, of course, that I say all of this....every word.....

...with all due respect.

Meanwhile, back at the Biden.

My reason for not supporting Joe back then wasn't about his politics or his policies or his presentation or any other P word that might come to mind while I'm on this alliterative roll.

My issue with Joe and my wanting someone else to rise up and become the Democratic nominee for the office of President of the United States wasn't about a P word.

It was about three "D" words.

Dumbass.

Dictator.

Drugs.

(And that third D had/has nothing to do with Hunter, so, again, don't gag yourselves into a hemorrhage)

 As 2020 approached, those who publicly admitted to being part of what passes these days as the "Republican" party fell into one of two, and only two, categories.

1) Hysterical adoration of, and unconditional loyalty to, the Great Orange Hope.

2) Looking the other way at everything he did and/or said and resigned to voting to re-elect him because the choice was, as it always is in the fubar known as the "two party" system, either Orange or Joe.

And for whatever reason (an ironic word, in the context), they convinced themselves that it was better to risk keeping a "President" who seemed hell bent and determined to, essentially, dismantle everything that the Founders constructed than to vote for anything or anyone having anything to do with the word "Democrat".

Meanwhile, everyone else of voting age in the U.S. of A. was four years and a thousand miles past having to be convinced that the number one priority on Election Day had to be, by any means necessary, to send the Orange Dismantler back to the comedy of a "career" from which he came....and the cheap gold plated escalator he rode in on....

There were a number of choices, in the early primary days, of Democratic candidates with hats energetically tossed into the ring.

Pretty much from the git go, though, it was obvious that when, in true Shirley Ellis fashion, it got "right down to the real nitty gritty", the consensus on the 'blue' side was concise in its three word simplicity.

Go. With. Joe.

Early on, on air, and in print, I made it clear that my two cents was we (any and all of us who were committed to that 'number one priority' dealio) should put our money (both literally and vote wise) on a new character in this re-boot of a very, very old theatrical production. At the time (and to this day) I believed (believe) that what was needed was freshening, invigorating, dynamic presentation, a come out of nowhere, "WOW the crowds" hunka hunka burning "new"....a JFK...or Barack.... even another Hillary....only this time one who was as good a campaigner as a 'policy wonk'.

Because history will bear out (and chokers/gaggers do what you gotta do) Hillary Clinton was, on paper, probably one of the top five most qualified candidates for President this country has seen in, at least, the past five or six generations, possibly even the 20th Century. Qualifications, of course, in the context of experience, maturity, depth of knowledge, et al.

Sadly, her weakest link was her savvy at sizzle.

And 2016 was the absolutely worst time, in at least a hundred years, for one of the two major candidates for President to be sizzle-less.

Because the other major candidate for President had taken the sizzle skill, saturated it with an unparalleled ability to lie like a rug and dazzle, literally, millions into seeing lies as truth through starry eyes assisted by orange colored glasses. 

Loath as one might be (this writer is one among that number) to use the word "charisma" when describing "Orange Is The New Aaack", there is no reasonable denial that charisma is exactly what it was.

Come to think of it, the same level of charisma that caused, literally, millions to support, endorse, even celebrate and, certainly, follow another dazzler down the road to dismantling. All the way down the road to eventual, total destruction.

With stops along the way at now historically infamous stations...  Bergen-Belsen..Buchenwald...Dachau.

Auschwitz.

For those put off by the comparison, it can only be offered that "that can't happen here" is the worst, and most lethal, form of naivete'.

Because nothing...N O T H I N G....ever happens.....ever....

Until it happens the first time.

Meanwhile, back at the Biden.

And a quick look see at the "D" words.

The first two are self explanatory and easily understood by anyone who has been not in a coma for the past three to seven years.

Dumbass. Dictator.

The first what he is. The second what he vows to be if given back the keys to 1600 Pennsylvania. (Assuming, foolishly, of course, that he didn't have at least a couple of dozen sets of keys made for himself, stashing them in a couple of those big boxes of "declassified papers" he keeps next to the TP in that orange cheap gold plated crap closet at Mar-La-Ego...)

That third "D"?

Drugs?

Again, not Hunter, chokin' gaggers (rhymes with cloak and dagger).

The drugs are part of a schpiel I concocted on air seven years ago when still trying (again, foolishly and futilely) to wave the determined red cappers back on the road to safety, sanity and a mantled society. (As opposed to dismantled....try to keep up....)

Resigned, my own self, by the prevailing winds of primary results that the Dems were gonna 'go with Joe', I offered a POV that was intended to serve primarily as a consolation to those who also wanted to see a fresh face on the blue posters, yard signs and bumper stickers. 

"Joe Biden", I suggested, "....is methadone."

"Donald Trump", I added, "...is heroin."

"Neither one is the best case scenario of productive sobriety...but only one of those can, and most likely will, prove to be fatal. To us....not them."

"What needs to happen, here (then) and now (then) is we need to take the methadone in order to end the flow of heroin....and in a year or two (or four), we can get serious about getting off the methadone and getting our shit...and lives..and republic....back together".

But, now, here we are.

Less than one calendar year from "DECISION (echo echo echo) 2024."....

And 'heroin' is, in double digits, already the 'presumptive' nominee for the "GOP" nomination for the office of President of the United States.

And 'methadone'?

The opposition has him labeled, painted and tattooed as a doddering, demented, drooling ancient relic, incapable of walking without assistance or talking without needing a translator to interpret his doddering, demented, drooling discourses, dialogues and/or discussions.

Put in more concise terminology for the "everyday, farm bred, Midwest America American....

He ain't no spring chicken.

Joe doesn't really deserve that much of a tarring with that big a brush, but, the GOP needs something/anything to distract from the four indictments and 91 felony criminal charges covering their Orange Wonder Boy like the badly tinted, highly overdone spray tan he wears like generic, brand X Coppertone on a day at the beach.

And it's not unreasonable to include age, in general, as a topic of discussion/debate as the now almost four year old 2024 'presidential' campaign actually reaches a place on the time line where it's not profanely ridiculous to be talking about the 2024 'presidential' campaign.

After all, between Joe and O, we're talkin' 157 years of habitation on ol' Mama Earth.

And since the USA has never really fully appreciated, let alone respected, the concept of the 'wisdom of the tribal elders', it's worth mentioning that both candidates are, by any measure using the 'pretty much everything needs to be the new 30' scale of contemporary America, too old for the gig.

But it's not Biden's age that had me (then) and has me (now) unwilling to support and endorse him for another term.

At the same time, "old" is, in fact, the critical issue.

If you're confused or think that I've gone down the road marked "relic" myself, bear with me.

I think it isn't his "oldness" that's working against Joe.

I think it's his "old fashioned-ness" 

And despite what your immediate thought/response might be...no, actually they are not the same thing.

There are plenty of young, even younger, people who proudly support, want, hell, even demand, old fashioned.

Ideas. Values. Policies. Moralities.

Some even go so far as to wish they could throw the societal stick shift into reverse at a hundred MPH and take 'Murica back to the 20th, 19th, even 18th Century.

They tend to own, if not constantly wear, a red cap. And think Donald Trump is a combination of Moses, Jesus and Dudley Do-Right.

As opposed to a combination of Sgt Bilko, Mr. Haney from "Green Acres" and Dudley Dursley, the pudgy, smug snarky brat cousin of Harry Potter who was sent every signal by his doofus ding dong set of parents that the world revolved around him.

And who karmically was (literally) pig tailed, uber tongued and nearly Demented to death, until Harry rescued his sorry spoiled ass and actually managed to convert Dudley from belligerent bully to damn near good guy.

If only the future of American politics could be put in the writing hand of J.K. Rowling.

Meanwhile, back at the Biden.

Joe has been a fixture in national American politics for fifty years. And given the volatile nature of politics, in general, and the population of everyday people who pull the curtain and flip levers/push buttons every two and/or four years to award politicians with office, it says something that Biden has succeeded (as always, especially in politics, a relative term) and survived (irrefutable expression because whatever else is, or is not, truth, "dog eat dog" defines politics as surely as 'unacceptable' defines (at this writing) the quality of American healthcare.

Again, for the complexity impaired, here's the thing.

In the business of politics as usual, Biden is a tribal elder and is as 'skilled and experienced' as skilled and experienced gets.

Under normal circumstances and during any other presidential campaign, that elder experience and those skills would be heavy artillery going into electoral battle.

But circumstances haven't been within a billion light years of "normal" since Election Night 2016.

And referring to it as a "presidential campaign" is like conflating a beer guzzling, hysterical mob screaming, folding chair throwing WWE Grudge Match, complete with Angle Slams,Batista Bombs, Ultimate Splashes and Van Daminators...to an intense, pin drop quiet, championship chess match.

"...In the right, far right, corner, wearing a made in China spewing Make America Great Again bullshit Red Cap, Orange Comb-over and admitting to weighing in at absolutely no more than 215 pounds....The Tippy Top Terminator!!!"

"....in the left corner, the highly skilled, but quiet, admittedly eccentric, Bobby Fischer...."

One needn't be a Grand Master to correctly predict who walks away with the belt here. 

And one needn't be either an expert nor a pundit to predict what could very likely happen come November.

In fact, both expertise and punditry are, at that pesky heart of the matter, essentially useless this time around.

Because both experts and pundits are, like the Biden "campaign" itself, insisting on calculating, speculating, projecting, conjecturing and predicting what the morning after Election results will be....based on a protocol a billion light years away from in play.

With all due respect, I reiterate my three word POV.

Joe.

Gotta.

Go.

Because he is, from all past evidence and , now, all appearances so far, bound, damned and determined to fight the good fight, be the better man, appeal to the good sense and goodness of "the American people" and win another four years of Presidency with calm...maturity....electoral strategy...peacefully...elegantly....proudly.

A chess champion for the ages.

While folding chair at the ready.....hysterical, mouth drooling mob adoringly frenzied....

The Tippy Top Terminator can't wait to rumble.

"What are you prepared to do, Mr. Ness....how far are you willing to go? He pulls a knife, you pull a gun....he sends one of yours to the hospital...you send one of his to the morgue....THAT'S the Chicago way...."

Joe Biden is a decent guy who has spent his life in service to his country.

And he offers a wealth of experience and a skill set arguably without equal.

There's just one thing...one very critical thing....he cannot seem to be.

And that from now until November, he absolutely has to be.

He needs to be Sean Connery.

"Vanity", the lady Sand offered, "...is the quicksand of reason".

And while vanity need not necessarily be ego driven, it will most certainly play a major part in the outcome come November.

Because the current occupant of the White House is showing every sign of ignoring the idea that he needs to be an ass kicking, pistol packing, morgue sending, world weary Chicago beat cop who understands just exactly what game is being played and is fully prepared to play it.

He honestly believes it's enough....

to simply be Joe Biden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, Hail, No....

 

 Two things, historically, supposedly, sure in life.

Death.

Taxes.

It seems fate has decided that there shall be a reboot of that ancient axiom, expanding it by one for a total of three.

 Death.

Taxes.

Trump.

At this moment, chances are you're either preparing, or bracing, for yet another Donald diatribe, number upteenth million and one of the upteenth million articles, assessments, analysis and/or agonizing 'attacks' on either the person, his qualifications, or lack of, for the office of President of the United States and/or his arguably record setting longest list in history of a single being's character flaws, with applicable failures included at no extra charge.

 

Uh, yeah.

No.

That's not the road I'm traveling this time out.   

Give or take.

This piece is going to do a little Star Trekkin'.

Going where no one has gone before.

I'll leave the 'boldly' up to individual reactions once we're done here.

Here's the thing.

It's time to face (slogan nod to Al Gore) an inconvenient truth.

That the office of President of the United States is now best described by the chant offered up by a weird group of loyalists in one of Rod Serling's darker moments of script and one of actor Burgess Meredith's finer moments among his many.

Let the chant begin.

Obsolete.

Obsolete.

Obolete.

And the optimally ideal action to be taken is to simply eliminate the gig.

(Yes, I know that optimal and ideal are the same thing, but I got a zazzy new Thesaurus for Christmas and I'm taking it out for a proper spin....)

Of course, given that the elimination of the office would require an Everest high pile of debate, discussion, argument, action, amending and all the other falderal associated with any Constitutional diddling, said elimination would be impractical, at best, unlikely, at least, and no fucking way, Jose' in so far as the opinion of the party having their morning Folgers served them in the Oval Office at the time would go.

Especially in a governmental construct that can't even get a fair, reasonable, decent, affordable health care plan for all off the ground.

Let alone build what really amounts to nothing more than a really, really long garden wall.

I mean, really.

So, if shutting down at 1600 Pennsylvania is a negatory, good buddies, let's at least put on our big boy/girl panties and face some unavoidable realities.

The office with the POTUS nameplate on the door, once, at least theoretically, a Stars and Stripes adorned smorgasbord of leadership, ideally equal parts moral, governmental and political, with adequate dollops of pomp, ceremony and symbolism has become as foundationally sound as those old fake store fronts they used to set up on Hollywood back lots. From the front view, a fine hotel, general store, raucous but reasonable saloon and a Marshal's office, complete with symbolic bars in the window.

But from the back view, a popping of the balloon of illusion...a very large, wooden flat prevented from falling over only by several evenly spaced, sturdy, angled pieces of lumber.

Leaning, of course, either hard right or hard left depending, as always, on the eye of the beholder.

Visual confirmation that no matter what the "townspeople" thought, or even imagined was happening in these 'hustling, bustling establishments'....there was really actually nothing of consequence going on "inside".

Nothing at all.

The Founders created the Presidency, history offers us, not so much because of what it was but because of what it was not.

A monarchy.

Royalty.

After all the heartache, heartbreak, blood, sweat and tears of battling Mother England for the right to 'get a place of our own', there wasn't an ice cube's chance on a July Georgia day that the original American 'blueprint' was going to list headquarters as "Buckingham Palace 2.0".

So, that, then, new, much buzzed about production, "The American Experiment" had its opening night curtain raised with the introduction of a character with all of the qualities one could hope for in a 'leading man/hero...

 Ladies and Gentlemen.....President Washington.

Besides, "King" George was already both 'copyrighted' and in use.

Back over there in England. From whence we had cometh.

George III, to be thoroughly accurate.

And "George IV" would lack the fresh newness that the teenage runaway US of A was determined to symbolize.

Not to mention that just the idea of "George IV" would have been much like "Rocky IV".

There it was...but for no really good reason anyone could come up with.

Fast forward to this moment on the timeline.

An additional Everest high pile of good intentions notwithstanding, a serious case can be made that the Presidency, as a concept and in the form it currently takes, has reached its expiration date.

The reasons why are many and varied, and admittedly arguable, but for the purpose of getting to the end of this particular parable, let's give Mame and the Bossa Nova a break and blame it on the earlier mentioned Big Three.

Death.

Not the literal passing of POTUS's so much as there have been, at this writing, only eight out of forty seven who haven't lived to see the next guy solemnly swear.

And 17.02% out of those who have sworn solemnly not making it to the memoir desk ain't bad.

If only statistically.

The death referred to here is that of morals, (minor drum roll)...values....and (major big time drum roll)....character.

More on that momentarily.

Taxes.

Like Murphy's Law and Schrodinger's Cat, there's an, as yet, untitled, undeniable fact in play when it comes to POTUS as it relates to IRS.

People always feel over taxed.

People always blame whoever is in the Oval with overtaxing them.

Taxes, like politicians and Mariah Carey's Christmas song, are not going away any time soon. 

By the by, while we're here and talking about people always feeling over taxed and predictably prepared to place the blame, can we clear up another annoyance when it comes to political observation and summation?

"this time around, the ________Party is going to kick the _____________ Party's ass because....wait for it....voters are angry and frustrated...."

Apologies to John Lennon, here's yet another clue for you all besides the Walrus being Paul.

Voters are always angry and frustrated.

Not always all, but always at least some and any result in any election always results from the number of how many and the political affiliation of the majority of that how many.

And here's a bonus another clue for you all.

Since the founding, America has enjoyed the good luck of having had 44 Presidents who understood that there was a line you simply did not cross, a secret you did not divulge, a bitter pill of truth so hard to swallow that it would, it was thought since the founding, choke the life out of the country itself if it was so revealed and, God forbid, admitted as truth by said President.

That bitter pill?

Life's a bitch. Life is unfair. You may see good fortune. You may live in horrific poverty. Your families may flourish. Your kids might be slaughtered in their class rooms.

Bottom line....apologies to Mick and Keith....

You won't always get what you want.

Because you can't always get what you want.

That's life. That's what all the people say.

All the people except Presidents.

Whose real job....has pretty much always been....knowing the truth....handling the truth...but not telling you the truth. 

At least not the whole truth.

Instead, telling you, even more critically, doing all they could do to inspire you.... to hang in, buck up, dig in, stand tall, stand together, fear only fear itself, ask not what your country can do for you, one nation, under God, from sea to shining sea.

That our job, as red, white and true blue Americans, was (is) to hang in, buck up, dig in, stand tall, stand together, fear only fear itself, ask not what our country can do for us, one nation, under God, from sea to shining sea.

And to do what we could to keep the number of "angry and frustrated" to as small a number as humanly possible.

Because the only thing that keeps a lynch mob from hanging the lynch-ee...or from burning the whole damn town to the ground...is keeping the number of sane, intelligent, rational, loving, caring, sincerely, authentically patriotic townsfolk...higher...than the number of angry, frustrated, hysterical, irrational, suicidal and/or homicidal mob joiners.

Pop quiz....what do you call a lynch mob that passes a certain minimum membership total.

A cult.

And that brings us to the 'new' third, seemingly inevitable item on the age old list of those things which are sure in life.

Death.

Taxes.

Trump.

The 'former President'.

The 45th President.

But wait...didn't I just say that America had had the good fortune of 44 Presidents who knew what need be said and, more critically, knew what should never, ever be said?

Yeah. I did.

Fortune took a flier and luck ran out at 45.

Because 45 had (has) no reservations about letting fly whatever his brain sends to his mouth. No qualms about saying anything or behaving in any way that pleases, satisfies and/or suits his personal whims, privileges and/or pleasure.

Who very likely thinks that 'compunction' means something to do with the proper placement and use of commas in correct punctuation.

And were he just an annoying, but arguably amusing, say, spoiled rich kid turned into spoiled rich man child who lied, connived and conned his way into both fame and fortune, his unwillingness, his inability to serve anyone and/or anything besides himself would be worth a moment or two of sympathetic laughter followed by ignoring him while we got on with our efforts to do what we could to "ask not".

But he's not just that.

And three quarters of a hundred million people think, hope....hell, believe..... that he's going to prove Mick and Keith wrong.

Even though they watched him fail time and time and time again...for four years....four years ago.

Make no mistake, by the way. Adding him to the list with death and taxes is in no way, Jose, meant to imply that he shall rise again, that he shall be that savior that so many 'angry and frustrated' believe will furnish that good fortune, protect their kids and prevent people of any color besides Caucasian from storming our borders to rape and pillage..and "poison our bloodstreams"...

.... while preventing any symbol of faith besides that guy we seem to insist looks just like Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees from deceiving us into an eternity of a thermostat totally stuck on 1000 degrees.

He's included on the list because he simply isn't going anywhere.

He refuses to go away.

And until, or unless, his assigned number of birthdays maxes out or a new loner in a sixth floor window makes headlines, he's determined, even seemingly destined, to be perpetual.

Herpes in human form.

But, the last few moments notwithstanding, this isn't just another MAGAbash essay.

Again, it's a pitch for the idea of getting rid of the office of President of the United States.

Because, in addition to the embarrassment and cheap gold plated joke of what it once was Trump has turned it into, the office itself has become....recue the chant.....obsolete.

Even worse....

Impotent.

The "power" of the office has become illusory. The ability of the office holder to wheel and deal with the savvy of an FDR or an LBJ has gone the way of the Pony Express, eight track tapes and dropping off film at the local Fotomat.

Both sides of "the aisle" in Congress now consist almost solely of self promoting, self profiting, self gratifying, self serving amateurs whose energies are completely depleted on, not serving 'we, the people' but doing only that that assures them of re-election by 'we, the people', so they can continue to make a lifelong career out of self promoting, self profiting, self gratifying and self serving.

Yeah, yeah, there are, to be fair and accurate, decent, caring and well intended House members and Senators who deserve recognition and credit for wanting to make life better for "the American people".

But one Jimmy Stewart gone to a Washington, under the iconic dome that houses nearly six hundred future Fox News contributors does not an effective system of governing make.

And let's not even incite the entire feminine population of North America with the three word phrase that pays.

Roe.

Wade.

Supremes.

Obviously, any notion that the Oval Office would ever offer up a lot of cool historically remarkable pieces of furniture in a "Going Out Of Business" sale is as much pipe dream as the idea that the median IQ level of reality television will ever even move the needle at all, let alone in an increasing direction.

In lieu of shuttering, let's just presume to speak for a vast majority of "we, the people" and offer that we would be willing to settle for this 'compromise'.

Move heaven and Earth to keep Donald Trump from ever again putting his hand on a Bible in front of a large crowd and "swearing" an 'oath'.

Unless, of course, it's in a big room with a robed dude/dudette sitting at a big desk in the front of that room with a gavel in their hand.

And as to who 'so, help me, God's' from that every four year platform on the back side of the Capitol building?

Any decent, caring, intelligent, authentically patriotic citizen who's available will suffice.

Oh, they won't be able to accomplish much of anything given the sordid, slimy mess that the rest of the E Pluribus operation has become.

They would, in fact, almost surely be nothing more than a symbolic figurehead.

But if we're going to have to settle for an ineffective, useless symbolic figurehead.

Let's go with a Jimmy Stewart who inspires.

And take a hard pass on the bloated bully who hasn't got a clue when, or how, to keep his mouth shut.