The Weekend Politics Thread Laces Up Its Dancin’ Shoes

And Death, the severe master, invites them to dance. He tells them to hold each other’s hands and then they must tread the dance in a long row.

— Jof, The Seventh Seal

 

 

Everything Trump touches dies.* And a lot of people die in completely nonmetaphorical ways for other reasons, like Category 5 hurricanes. The twain met disastrously in Puerto Rico during and following September 2017, when an Atlantic tropical cyclone named Maria presented a problem to solve.**

With little justification other than “don’t wanna,” the Trump administration severely underresponded to the unprecedent storm damage, leaving most of the U.S. commonwealth without electricity and insufficient supplies of fresh water and safe food for half a year. When Trump himself deigned to visit survivors, he mostly chucked paper towels at people’s heads and bragged that only 17 people had died.***

Turns out, Maria and its aftermath claimed somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,600 lives. This calamitous story drowned over the past week in the cacophony of Rosanne Barr’s Trump-encourage racism, Samantha Bee’s dirty word overwhelming a perfectly valid critique of abetting inhuman immigration enforcement policies, and Trump avoiding insider trading violations only by using his outside voice to leak May employment data.

Trump, like Death in the one Ingmar Bergman every U.S. high school student has watched, calls the tune. Most of the audience dances macabrely. Politicados stand fixated like the juggler marveling to his unseeing wife and mute daughter that as inevitable as it all seems, none of it could actually constitute reality.

Not helping matters at all, Trump lies with every breath. The official Washington Post mendacity meter ticked past 3,250 provably false statements during fewer than 500 days in office. Trump lies so much, he just tweeted out his secret identity as Uvular at the Bat (aka, The Uluvalur Suspects).^

Trump lays waste to shared truth even as he slathers the blood of innocents on his hands in ways previously unimagined. Like Thanatos with a bad combover and a played-blank VHS copy of How to Irritate People, Trump wreaks ruination to such a degree that all the destruction gets obscured by yet more destruction.

Take shelter in the comment threads below.

 

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n.b., YouTube tagged this scene with a pay-per-click Tap Tap Dash smartphone game ad. Each Politicado must search deep in his or her soul to find the answer to the eternal question, “Could I outscore Death in next-gen Angry Birds?”
*Raging Republican Rick Wilson spouts this aphorism frequently, but he likely stole it from the Avocado Politics Thread.
**Sound of Music reference, outta nowhere.
***How Uvular wishes he fabricated any of the preceding paragraph out of whole cloth milled from calumny. But he would never lie even though his very the skein hung in the balance.
^The misspelling proves the authenticity of the inauthentic claim.