Where Beagles Dare

Having put it off forever I finally read a first-hand account of the unbelievable shit-show of the Trump White House and I'm still trying to comprehend it. Clearly, for Trump it was a takeover. A leveraged buyout. The executive branch, and the country, for that matter, were his to do with as he pleased. It was up to others to rein him in if they could and, good luck, because he never met a law he didn't think he could break with impunity. He had never been a competent businessman, after all, only a snake oil salesman, a bungler, a rogue, a charlatan and a fraud. 

So Trump's end of it I can kind of understand. I defer to the wisdom of Animal House. The loaning of the Cadillac. The owner is told, when the inevitable happens, what did you expect? You give something nice to people who have no respect for anything and it will get trashed. Ergo, it's your fault. The part I can't understand is the ass-kissers, crotch-sniffers and anus-lickers. Almost all, for example, of the Republican elected officials in Washington. Among the vampires I'm sure it was higher. Among the lobbyists, arms-dealers, pollution-peddlers and so on, I mean. 

Washington is full of them. Even after WWII it was like a sleepy college town, with the federal government as the college. Eisenhower certainly saw the potential of the parasites and warned us. Beware the parasites. We did not heed him. Early on, it was bipartisan. But Republicans eventual bought the franchise on corruption. As an investment. And it paid off. As an investment. Oaths be damned. Legality and democracy and responsible government have nothing to do with it. They are in it for the money and the power. That explains the crotch snffers and anus lickers. 

So far, so good. I have progressed in my understanding. At an abstract level. Empathetically I'm still nowhere. I can't get there. Somehow I stumbled on Berchtesgaden. Hitler's hangout. So I researched it a bit and then I got it. How it must feel. The incredible high of the power. The seamlessness of it, since the feeling is with you constantly. Mark Meadows and the rest of them might have to eat shit to Trump but, what a small price to pay to be so close to inconceivable power. Weirdly, I don't think Trump feels powerful. Just isolated and scared. But he's a sick fuck. 

So the beagles flock to Berchtesgaden. I mean, Mar-a-Lago. Where they lick and sniff and try to follow a scent to a pot of gold and loll in the sun. I don't mean to impugn beagles. I love dogs. But, you get the point. Dogs are supposed to be dogs. Republicans are not.