For anyone surprised at the actions of the man living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC, where have you been living for the last decade? I must admit I didn’t see the renaming of Mt. Denali in Alaska as a priority, but the rest of this is business as usual for an angry billionaire on a power trip.
I would be hard-pressed to come up with something so outrageous that it wouldn’t be possible for a man under the guidance of Project 2025 (the document he has never seen), who has the morals of an alley cat, the scruples of Niccolò Machiavelli, and the emotional stability of a three-year-old on a sugar high.
He is no longer a neophyte in the land of governmental largess. His training wheels have been removed, and the guardrails have been sold for scrap. He will be transported on a palanquin of his own design and there will be no shortage of uber-wealthy sycophants to man the poles beneath the throne. They will leave no crypto coin unturned. His story will be told for future generations and his name will live in infamy. Protest will be futile because no one wants to hear anything they don’t already believe to be true.
It would be best to sit back and observe. Learn from our own past mistakes that allowed us to be without a proper response to a future that was so predictable. We were not caught unawares, we were caught unprepared.
I leave you with a favorite poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay titled First Fig. It has little to do with the above theme but is a life lesson.
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!
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