Anyone who’s raised children recognizes Donald Trump as an overgrown toddler. The lies he tells are the sort of incompetent falsehoods even small children outgrow. After his attorney Sidney Powell pleaded guilty to election mopery, Trump claimed – and apparently expects people to believe – “Ms. Powell was not my attorney, and never was.” I actually expect him to trot out “I know you are but what am I?” next.
I’m starting to think all the Republicans in Congress show up to work in the same tiny car. Now there are nine guys who’ve put their names forward as potential speakers of the House. They’re so anonymous their families haven’t even gotten MAGA death threats yet.
Americans like to think of ourselves as special, but voting populations all over the world have shown themselves susceptible to irresponsible conmen. For example, Italians, given their penchant for changing governments like socks, kept voting Silvio Berlusconi into office just because he was rich and entertainingly corrupt. He also had dreadful taste. He fancied himself an art collector, but instead of buying paintings by artists anyone has heard of, the media magnate with an almost $7 billion fortune purchased pictures of madonnas and naked women for three-figure sums from the equivalent of Home Shopping Network – and kept them in a climate-controlled warehouse at a cost of $800,000 a year. Now his heirs are trying to figure out what to do with thousands of worthless paintings.
I’ve been seeing a lot of supposedly unbiased journalism lately pushing hard on the notion that nuclear energy is a necessary component of any battle against climate change. This HuffPo piece, for example, spins the fact that the Democratic governors of Illinois and North Carolina have vetoed bills allowing new nukes in their states as some sort of tragedy. The writers of such pieces don’t live downwind from Three Mile Island, or own any property near Fukushima.
The floor’s yours.