Soon after the election, someone messaged me asking how I was doing in light of Trump’s triumph. After thinking about it for a while (I think there was a moment on election night when tears had threatened, but never materialized), I said that, to my horror, I was finding myself more comfortable with despair than I would have been with hope.
Despair, I said, has never let me down.
But don’t think despair has made me all mopey. In fact, it’s energized me. Politics has become a horror movie, an apocalyptic adventure, a zoo of fantastic beasts.
And the parade of job-seeking sycophants parading through Trump Tower are doing the Monster Mash.
The first two in line, Reince Priebus, a name worthy of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Steve Bannon, which rhymes with Gannon, who is, if you know anything at all, the shifty boss to beat in all the Zelda games. Of course, Priebus is the one with the shifty smile and Bannon is the one with the Dark Arts manual called Breitbart, but nevermind.
And then there were those two hideous little monsters, Rudy Guiliani and Newt Gingrich. For Secretary of State? Grisly. Gee. Where do they find those names? They belong in Arkham. It was a clever ploy, since we are now crossing our fingers that Mitt Romney or General Petraeus is chosen. At least we wouldn’t have to cover our eyes when they meet the Queen.
Dr. Ben (Moreau) Carson, the seemingly befuddled doctor of neurosurgery, who ran for President, then took himself out of the running for Secretary of Health and Human Services, on the grounds that he didn’t have enough experience to run a government agency, now believes he’s qualified for Housing and Human Development because he’s black and grew up in a ghetto of some sort. What hideous experiment is he planning?
Nikki Haley, United Nations Ambassador – a virgin sacrifice to the gods of the globalization volcano? I figure Trump was thinking hey, she’s from India. Maybe she knows something.
There’s more to come, I know. In the meantime, I’m watching the news similarly to how I watch The Walking Dead. I know there are good people out there, trying to make a difference, trying to stay human, trying to look out for each other. And I root for them. But right now it’s the Negans with the big sticks who get to run the show, because they don’t care who they hurt in the process. Negan and all the little monsters who crawl out of the swamp to his side. That’s why he’s “draining the swamp.” He’s setting all the swamp things free. And you know the song they're playing. All together now.
And now comes Snively Whiplash himself, at Treasury, of course: Meet Steve Mnuchin.
And it is said (this part is true) that General Michael Flynn's staff at the Defense Intelligence Agency referred to him as Captain Queeg. He looks about right for the part.