To blog or not to blog, that is the question...

A few months ago, I took a pause in blogging. The appearance of Donald Trump as President of the United States took the wind out of my sails, not so much Trump himself, horrid as he is, but Trump as a symptom and a symbol of ruinous decadence. It was like seeing an old friend suddenly getting horribly thin, or finding a loved one suddenly lost in depression, no longer taking care of their appearance, not washing, not changing their clothes. 

One sure thing has come to me from from all of this. I am grateful that I have no children and thus leave no innocent grandchildren to face the world that is coming. I realize that those of us born right after World War Two, in either the USA or Western Europe, have lived to be elderly in a truly Golden Age of peace, prosperity and health that is more than probably going to disappear forever.

In the following weeks and months, I hope to write some sort of coherent analysis of some of the facets of this descent into chaos. For the moment I am collecting articles that my instinct tells me are relevant and that may help me to write something useful in the future. I am posting them to my twitter account. @David_Seaton, if you care to read them and draw your own conclusions.

In the meantime, the only way I can fully express the dread I feel is in poetry.

Today I leave you with this sample:

Futurology

The old and toothless of our tribe

Tell the tale

That before the beginning of time

Even before the mountains began to glow in the dark

An orange baboon ruled the world

And the legend has it

That our land of tears,

Of ashes,

And of dust

Was,

Once upon a time,

A land of hopes and dreams

DS

Returning to action soon

Dear Readers,

I have been taking a break from blogging while trying to understand how someone as grotesque as Donald Trump got to be POTUS... And finally I'm beginning to get some ideas about what it means and I'll be back soon to share them with you. DS

Fourth of July Meditation

There he sits

In his big, white, house

Fattening toads

And breeding house flies

For Beelzebub

W(h)ither America?

The Night of the Living Trump

Trump’s approval ratings are lower than those of any new U.S. president in the history of polling: Just 36 percent of Americans are pleased with his performance so far. Some 80 percent of British citizens think Trump will make a “bad president,” along with 77 percent of those polled in France and 78 percent in Germany. And that’s just week one.  Tom Malinowski - Foreign Policy

 The USA is just a little over 240 years old and 240 years is time enough for anything to happen.

And so now, after all these years, the White House of Washington is finally occupied by someone who is mentally ill, seriously mentally ill. Bat-shit crazy, in fact.

This takes some getting used to.

I have held off writing about this until now because the situation appears to me much too numbingly, depressingly, chaotic to really analyze... yet.

For me the most significant thing in this Night of the Living Trump, is the world-wide horror, depression and confusion it is producing.

And the most encouraging thing is the galvanization of what appears to be a "new" left in America, (and much of the rest of the world it would appear) that is no longer so concerned about who can use what bathroom, but more tuned into saving the country and perhaps the entire world from an evil maniac.

So in the weeks and months to come, I will leave trying to analyze what this malignant narcissist does and concentrate my modest efforts on recording and examining what America and the world comes up with to wriggle out of his tiny-handed grip. DS

Inaugural Rant

Vultures twitter in the trees

A message carried by the breeze:

The herd, it seems, has bought their butcher

And he's a butcher they must feed

One who eats when they have fallen

Drinking only when they bleed

Bilious, glutton, gorged, lubricious

Puffed and swollen by his feasting

Spilling words

Like Onan's seed 

David Seaton