Friday, January 23rd, 2016
In the few days prior to Trump becoming the President of the United States, even through a flickering awakeness, we know that given the power of the United States however in decline, the whole world is right now being funneled together for the long march into dreamland. It is certain to make for a twistingly long sleep. Guessing at the damage to life soon to be inflicted, many may never awaken from this opaque dream. Who will count up the bodies? Whether Trump is more exactly characterized as sociopathic, paranoiac, or psychotic, all three diagnoses are correctly comprised in the recognition that here we face the next preeminent madman of history. Where to turn back? If the inauguration were interrupted, we would have a fraud on our hands. Striding blankly ahead of us, Trump steps onto the high waters of time, mounting his cathedra. And the sphinx eyed wife and the strangely ensorcelled children, formerly, perhaps, salamander, for a moment set aside hawking their bracelets, neckties, the diploma mill degrees, golf memberships, furniture and success manuals to the compulsorily assembled—and for this one moment, progeny and frau even halt raking it in: Donald Trump’s voice is heard down the rows and rows of headphones! Heavy lidded, ladies and gentlemen, it churns—the waves and tourbillon.