Still not time to exhale, but the end-game is coming
For nearly five years many good people, people who never thought there was a single reason in hell that Trump should be president, or even dog catcher for that matter, have been annoyed and eventually terrorized by the orange menace.
Somehow, no matter how disgusting his behavior was, no matter how big and ugly his lies were, not mater how obviously racist or imbecilic he was, he still hung around , seemingly enjoying the suffering of any who didn’t worship him.
In the end it took a murderous mob, inspired and unleashed by his infantile fascist agenda, to finally cross a line that would bring a big enough backlash to squash his putrid plans.
In a sign of how bizarre the world is, and how it’s not likely to become less so anytime soon, it was Twitter and and the rest of the online communications infrastructure, that he love so much to abuse, that shut him down. Then the congress, taking up the momentum of a Trump-tweet free atmosphere for the first time in 5 years, and give him a going away prize: a second impeachment that might eventually carry a conviction and lifetime ban from politics.
Now comes at the last gasp of his wacko “civil war” militia then it’s bye-bye Donny
Naturally the open questions regarding any finality are still many. Will he flee the country perhaps to a country without US extradition treaties? Will his stick around, mute and impotent looking for ways to continue stirring up trouble? Will his sicko-army continue to commit treasonous terrorist acts, up until the inauguration and beyond?
In the longer term, how many of the many, many crimes that he committed will be investigate, charged and even go to trial? How will the future for his most ardent supporters and sycophants look? Will one of them really become the “new” Trump for 2024?
It is perhaps one of the strangest side-effects of having lived through this strange traumatic time ( I am speaking about politics, not pandemics) that the idea that Trump and his insane followers could just fade away quietly in nearly inconceivable. The idea that anything resembling “normal” could ever happen again is not a thought that seems even remotely plausible.
It’s like our minds are careening between the horror and fear of more death and destruction and a vague uneasiness of the unknown and unfamiliar feeling of… silence, with the orange ogre of idiocy no longer bombarding us with his self-serving bile.