Idiocracy

He is the Emperor Without Clothes.

We are getting used to him. The tweets, elemental thoughts, name calling, and threats don’t set off alarm bells anymore. It’s just him – ho hum.

We are getting used to the stable of pathetic but rich or military folk following him around and making believe they both understand and support his idiotic utterance.

We are getting used to the vulgarity of it all – to his terse nonsense – to his ugly utterances – and to his fifth grade name-calling.

When we think about it, and we do less and less these days (mostly because our psychologists urged us to let go), we excuse and/or dismiss his lashing out at key actors internationally or in his cabinet.

We control our panic and then dismiss it entirely by reminding ourselves that he is surrounded by some smart and good people, not noting that even when he reads from the teleprompter, what he reads has been “vetted” by those around him – those we think will save us when humpty dumpty falls off the wall.

And we relax some, knowing that Pence could step in at any time. Of course Pence is the guy who can’t dine alone with a woman unless she is his wife, and who sits by the President’s side always smiling and thinking foolish or dirty thoughts.

But, most of all, we are tired, numbed by the months of tirades, attacks on others, name calling and threats. He is more dangerous today than even back in January. He is in control – in control of a Congress of clowns, of a world in shock, and of a nuclear arsenal.

Demonstrators are tired too. There is an eerie silence of acceptance. Acceptance of the most dangerous man ever placed in a position to destroy the planet. We are asleep at the worst possible moment.

Sleep well Americans.