Naming and Shaming

I keep seeing that President-elect Dingleberry has “named” this one or that one for this post or that post.  But he hasn’t.  He’s nominated them, which is a different thing.  And most, if not all, of these nominations have been farcical.  And no, I don’t see the Senate—even a Republican-majority Senate—giving up its constitutional duty for advice and consent just because Dingleberry asks them to.  He’s useless to them now.  Anytime he goes to campaign for a candidate, that candidate loses.  They know this.  I also don’t think that confirming a parody cabinet is going to help them in the long run, either.

Although the next two years stand to be pretty grim—mid-term elections tend to go badly for the party in power, and the Democrats are going to have a lot to run against—hope is not all lost.  Dingleberry is not going to be able to just set aside the Constitution, he is not going to be able to run for a third term—that would take a Constitutional amendment, and those take forever because of the high standards that must be met in Congress before it is sent out for TWO-THIRDS of the states having to approve it—he will not be able to invoke the Insurrection Act since the closest way people on our side will come to inciting insurrection will include a drum circle and a candlelight vigil.  The president has to give the insurrectionist a formal warning to disperse in two months, and even their band of insurrectionists was unable to keep it up for more than an afternoon, so that’s dead in the water.

What we can count on, and his slew of nominations is evidence of what is to come, is a veritable circus of incompetence and mismanagement.  The slim majority the Republicans have in the House is fractious and unmanageable.  The new majority leader in the Senate, John Thune, has had a strained relationship with Dingleberry, and, as a fellow rich person, probably isn’t used to taking orders, especially from a demented halfwit like Dingleberry.

All is not lost.

We are cursed to live in interesting times, but I keep thinking of this:  Many years ago, in a desperate time in our lives, my wife, child, and I were in Los Angeles and driving on, I think, the Five.  Remembering Steve Martin’s fine film, “LA Story,” I kept saying that I was looking for the talking sign.  And what do you know, we found one.  It was outside a church and was easily visible from the freeway.  It read, “The harder you fall, the higher you bounce.”  Wise words indeed.