This geriatric golfer is really quite concerning

Mean Mr. Mustard

You know, I keep telling myself to lay off thinking or writing about this firehose of Trump-world fecal matter. 

Focus on the positive, I think; appreciate all the beauty and grace of this world. Smile at passers-by in a non-creepy way that makes them think I appreciate their day-to-day struggles. Maybe play more video games or learn origami. 

But every day it’s some new outrage, some mindless new assault that makes nobody’s life better and everybody’s life (except for the uber-wealthy) at least a little bit worse. The only guiding principle here is magnifying power for a certain elderly golfer (thanks, Jeff Tiedrich), and shielding said golfer from any challenge to his pointless, Nero-esque presidency.

Not sure how we got here. There are hundreds of theories, most of them probably partially right. I’m really not sure how we get out of here. Trump’s been in office for less than a week and it already seems like stately halls of government are tumbling down around us. 

I console myself with like-minded pundits on Bluesky, or I tune out and spend more time on Netflix and Prime, hoping that crazy guy outside will eventually go bother somebody else. But no, he’s still there, scowling like Mussolini. And he’s holding an axe.

The only upside right now is that Trump is quite old. He’s increasingly erratic. Maybe that will undo him at some point.  He can’t last forever, right? But then neither can a nation that has picked a man like him to wreck it. So time isn’t really on our side. 

We’ve met the enemy, as the saying goes, and it’s us. Well, not really. It’s still mostly them: the dopes and grifters and hostile governments who have had their way with the USA. We’re in quite the pickle now. And it’s all very vexing.