DEAD MAN WALKING

 As Mr. Trump carries on with his last presidential breath whining as only he can about Shakespearean injustices, the stabs in the back, the democracy that buckled but refused to break, we are left to listen one last time to fictions masquerading in an alternate universe as immutable truths.

We are the corrupt ones. We are the ones manipulating the system. We lie, cheat and steal our every waking hour. And we have purloined his throne.

His minions will do his bidding, pleading (in multiple senses) his cause, attempting to convince those who are now called upon to judge us that it is we who cannot be trusted. That there has been a conspiracy, the size of which is beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.

It would be sad in a different world, a saner world, one not beset with the terrible damage left in this man's wake. It would be sad if he had ever earned our esteem, or was ever worthy of our praise. It would be sad if there had been even a moment's recognition of the solemn responsibility of the task he swore to undertake. But this is not sad, for Donald Trump has not caused us anything but pain, has not treated us with anything but disrespect, has not handled his office with even a scintilla of the care it mandates.

So let him take one final stab at convincing us that he is not the perpetrator of unspeakable crimes but its victim, carrying with him the certain knowledge of the verdict that awaits at journey's end.

For Donald Trump is now but a dead man walking

BIDEN DID NOT DEFEAT TRUMP

 ("Biden Beats Trump")

Your headline was wrong. Biden did not defeat Trump.

Trump beat himself.

A NOTE TO MY TEACHER

 I want to thank you for your time Mr. Trump.

I am two years old. Actually two years and almost two months. I have lived my entire life with a President of indeterminate color, whose vocabulary is now smaller than mine, who has lost the combination to his moral code, who has so clearly taught me the  wrong side of the divide between right and wrong, who has less self control than anyone in my pre-school class, who doesn't know the meaning of grace or compassion, of friendship or kindness, who has shown me what hatred looks like and the damage it causes, who is willing to sacrifice as many lives as he has to in order to try to save one, who has obliterated the line between truth and lies.

I want to thank you Mr. President for everything you have brought to my young eyes, everything you have suggested to my young mind, everything you have tried to imbed in my young heart, everything you would instill in my young soul. 

I have watched everything you have done, heard everything you have said, seen everything that resulted from your words and deeds. I promise I have learned lessons from you that will stay with me forever.

But know this Mr. President. Until you have finished your latest rant, I want you to sit in time out. When you calm down I want you to pack your bags and leave your big white house without saying another word. 

You see, your time as my teacher is over. Your services are no longer needed. I can take it from here. 

You're fired.

  

EVERY VOTE COUNTS (AND COUNTS, AND COUNTS)

 253 to 214. Those numbers are etched in my brain.

I mean I love Nicole Wallace, Joy Reid and Rachel Maddow, but even they must be running out of things to say. And they really should have a camera on Steve Kornacki 24 hours a day. He deserves an Emmy or at least a new shirt and the promise of a month off after this.

If good things come to those who wait, there better be excellent treats at the end of this exercise in Chinese (are they behind this too) water torture. Can we possibly come up with a 21st century solution for tabulating our preference?  I mean we got men to the moon over a half century ago. Do we still have to count votes with our fingers and toes?

The only positive of this is that they just took Captain Queeg off the stage in a straitjacket. When they have to cut away from the President's statement because even he is not allowed to shout FIRE in a theater, then do we get a moment for the hint of a smile in the middle of this absurdist play?

Wait. They just counted 12 more votes in Nevada. Mr. Biden is now  two and a half votes behind in Georgia. And Pennsylvania promises results will be forthcoming by the time the sun comes up, or goes down. Or somewhere in between. Did Arizona just secede from the Union? What day is this?

Yogi was right. There is such a thing as deja vu all over again. Please, I am begging you, finish the count. Note to orange man: don't let the door hit you on the way out.

NO PRESSURE

AN EDITED VERSION OF THIS POST NOW APPEARS ONLINE IN THE LETTERS TO THE EDITOR IN THE NEW YORK TIMES - IT IS SCHEDULED TO BE IN THE HARD COPY OF THE TIMES TOMORROW

 How must it feel to be Joe Biden today knowing that the future of our democracy rests in his hands?

In the day before what could be the end of the world as we know it, all I want to do is watch re-runs of Yankee classics. Anything but face the suffocating thought that Donald Trump could be unleashed upon this nation in his full fury for four more years (or beyond).

Joe Biden has lived through hard times that none should have to endure. He is remarkably resilient. But today the weight of the world rests on his shoulders and even he must be staggering.

Hillary Clinton's loss sent us into the streets in protest. A defeat tomorrow would send us into Hell.

Joe, no pressure buddy. Just like any other day knowing our heads will explode if you fail in this mission. 

No pressure.

THE DAY DEMOCRACY DIED

 A long long time ago

Can it only be twelve years 

What I saw then made me smile

I thought maybe we had a chance

A vision full of sweet romance

That we could make a difference for a while

But what I see now makes me quiver

With every word he makes me shiver

Dystopia what he brought us

And hatred what he taught us

So many tears that I have cried

I think about how he has lied

And all who suffer deep inside

The day democracy died

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

Did you right all that was wrong

Or even try to sing that song

Didn't even try to learn the words

Do you believe in anything

Except what power does you bring

And pleasure when they kneel and kiss your ring

Well I wonder if you are the devil

Nothing you say is on the level

Your faces they both are painted

Your souls they both are tainted

I watched in horror as they swore you in

I swore it was a mortal sin

We had lost as you did win

The day democracy died

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

Now four years later see what you've done

You turned us dark blotted out the sun

But it didn't have to be this way

You're a joker played by autocrats

Lost every hand you must know that

You sold us out and didn't even care

And all the while as Putin smiled

You flattered him you were beguiled

Our country was impaled

For every day you flailed

We were marching in the streets

To speak of death by grievous knee

And protested we can't let this be

The day democracy died

We were sayin'

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

Hocus pocus was your answer

When Covid spread its horrid cancer

From sea to anguished sea

It took our breath and spat it out

We stared at gurneys all about

While you just said  it was a hoax

Now the air is black from those who died

And mournful tunes from those who cried

We stand as one in sorrow

For they never got tomorrow

But you never even shed a tear

You never felt their mortal fear

You never felt their lives were dear

The day democracy died

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

And now you're asking for our vote

And telling us you are the G.O.A.T.

We should all trust you once again

But our minds are nimble, they're not thick

And we won't fall for a charlatan's trick

Cause we know the devil's not our friend

You're but a fool up on the stage

Filled with hate and all that rage

No truths have you spoken

No promise you've not broken

And as western skies burn in the night

And many weep in pain and fright

You stare blindly without sight

The day democracy died

We're all sayin

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

I wonder if you lie awake

And think of those you do foresake

Or contemplate the damage you've done

The sacred trust you did destroy

With soiled hand, your dirty ploys

But I am sure you'll brush my thoughts away

And we lie awake in silent scream

You made a nightmare from our dreams

And though a word's not spoken

You see our hearts are broken

I long for word that you are gone

November 3rd to bring the sun

But if you win then we are done

The day democracy died

We'd be cryin

Bye bye to Francis Scott Key 

Killed our nation and our station nothing left here to see

Conflagration, decimation, cause freedom's not free

Look what he's done to you and me

What he's done to democracy

We'd be cryin

We're all an American lie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

There good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Oh yes, this is where democracy died

THE MYTH OF THE RELUCTANT TRUMP VOTER

("Some Trump Supporters Might Be Relieved to See Him Lose")

Are we supposed to feel badly for the ambivalent Trump voter? The one who recognizes this man has more flaws than the 1962 Mets but still voted for him in 2016 and will likely do so again this year?

If 2016 was an error of judgment, what is this but a hundred times worse?

Don't tell me of those who would secretly hope for his demise but publicly provide him cover and don't even have the courage, the moral fibre, to cast their ballot where their head is.

It is those like the writer's friends who cause me the most unhappiness. For the ones who know better, I have no sympathy. For it is you who stand squarely between Mr. Trump and the unemployment line.

Don't lie to yourself and certainly don't lie to me. You are either with Mr. Trump with every single one of his warts or you are against him. There can be no in between. 

For your one foot in and one out is not the best of both worlds but the worst.

DISENFRANCHISED

 ("Supreme Court Won't Extend Wisconsin's Deadline For Mailed Ballots")

Approximately 138 million Americans voted in the 2016 Presidential election. That seems an impressive figure until one considers that the eligible voter population was about 250 million.

We are typically a wholly unengaged electorate, with 40 percent or more of us finding inadequate reason, or for some, opportunity to participate in what is our most fundamental and critical right.

But this time is different. With a pandemic raging through our nation and a President raging at more than half of it, there is a fervor to cast a ballot. We have been witness to those who have stood for countless hours for the chance to make their preference known.

Now we are informed that procrastinators are not welcome. Our far from Supreme Court has informed Wisconsin, and, with virtual certainty, any other jurisdiction who will petition it for advice, that mail in ballots must be received, NOT MERELY CAST, by election night. So for all those whose circumstance, or nature, prevented them from sending in their vote yet, for those who have always been last minute crammers, or didn't recognize that November 3rd was merely an illusion, you are  now given a moment's notice that you are about to be disenfranchised. 

It keeps me awake this evening, knowing that five people may well have now stolen another four years for Donald Trump.  It keeps me awake knowing that our highest court, in the midst of our terrible plague, in a time where the President and his party have tried to squeeze the US postal service to the brink of extinction, find insufficient cause to extend until election day the appointed hour when ballots may be cast.  

I lie awake disheartened by the absurdity of what we have become.

IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES

 

It was the worst of times, it was the pervasiveness of the cruelty, it was the constellation of suffocating lies, it was the unremitting procession of hatreds, it was the field of broken dreams, it was the morning of mourning, it was the evening of death, it was the spring, summer, fall and winter of our discontent, it was the relentless seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years of blinding darkness.

It was a ride down an escalator into Hell, to a place filled with rapists and murderers swarming across the border, with caravans of the worst humanity could offer, with children locked in cages, a place where our shores were closed to the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free (a concept that would take on further meaning in a different context), a place where prisoners of war were losers and those who went to war were suckers, a place where women were there for the taking, where disabilities were  mocked, a place where the rule of law and the Constitution were treated with disdain, a place where federal agencies were held in contempt and experts were treated as charlatans, a place where fealty replaced ethics and wrongs flowed like water from a tap, a place where tax returns were treated as national secrets and Congressional subpoenas were ignored without thought or concern, a place where truth was forced into hibernation and our promises were without meaning, a place where floods filled our streets and fires filled our lands and lungs, a place where I can't breathe echoed in every corner of the nation, a place where Proud Boys flourished and evil was deemed indistinguishable from good, a place where autocrats, despots and dictators located refuge and allies were left abandoned, a place where a virus found a home and remained unrestrained, where wearing a mask somehow became a declaration of fundamental disrespect for our freedoms, a place where illness and death became numbers on a page, a place where casting a ballot was no longer a right but a question mark, a place where the Supreme Court became a reflection of one party's dishonesty, a place where morality, decency, compassion, kindness, reason, logic, science, justice became four letter words in the highest office in the land.

And now we pray the light will be once more, and that the seasons will embrace us, and the morning and evening will bring hope, and  love will stand at the ready, and  truth will emerge, and the qualities that once made us strong will escape from their prison.

We pray we will soon see the best of times.

Well, that may be a bit of hyperbole.

We truly only desperately pray that they will no longer be the worst.

I MISS THE FLY

 I miss the fly.

I know it only had a starring role in the V.P. debate but I hoped it could be convinced to make a return to the stage.

Instead we were forced to listen to a mountain of lies by Trump on his response to the Coronavirus, on a cure happening by the morning, on all the lives he has saved during the ever disappearing pandemic (giving a new definition of chutzpah), on his really, really wanting to release his tax returns, on Biden being the corrupt politician on the stage, on Trump's tireless efforts on behalf of the children in cages and their wonderful accommodations, on his freeing the slaves at Mar-a-Lago, on his herculean efforts to save the environment, on his making China his bitch, on his honest to God desire to put a chicken in every pot but not $15 per hour in every pocket, on anything and everything he has done in this alternate universe every hour of every day of his presidency.

Putting a two minute muzzle on him did the President a great favor. It made him seem less a madman, less petulant, less puerile. With the bar set at foaming at the mouth, he exceeded expectations. 

I miss the fly.