Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Okay, I confess. What I'm about to say isn't at all nice, but I'm going to say it anyway because I find the latest Trump headlines so satisfying.
The retired general who yelled "Lock her up" with thousands of others at the Republican Convention, "LOCK HER UP" for the steady drip of emails purposely leaked by Russians, the man who claimed he would certainly be put behind bars for the kind of lawlessness SHE lived by, the man whose son bought--and spread!--the garbage that Hillary was running a child porn operation in a D. C. pizza joint, the self-appointed avenging angel who spewed anger and hate and nonsense, the general who claimed Hillary played fast and loose with national security--I'm not making this up--the man who claimed Hillary was a liar, that man gets put out with the trash by the President, his hero, for what?--for lying about national security--for being a liar, for looking directly into the eyes of the Vice President of the United States and telling him something flat-out untrue about Russia.
It may be sin to love it as much as I do, but his flaming demise feels to me like justice.
Go ahead and listen for yourself.
Here's the blessing. Today, all of us love that speech. Those who bought it last summer still think it's on the money, I'm sure. But those of who thought him a cheerleader for hate, those of us whose skin crawled, now we love every silly second too. Go ahead, listen to him again.
Today we all agree: it's a beautiful couple of minutes. Perfectly poetic. It belongs, certainly, in the Smithsonian. Now that he's gone for the reasons he is, that hot-blooded convention speech imparts real wisdom because it's become parable.
If you have ears, listen.
Posted by J. C. Schaap at 7:22 AM