Let me describe how I feel after the events of the last 3 or 4 days.
I feel like I’m the comic victim in that archetypal motif involving an unfortunate man who is using an outhouse (preferably for #2 purposes) and unbeknown to him, tragically, is the fact that a large moving crane has chosen this moment to lift the shell of the outhouse from its base. After the heavy machinery has hoisted the outhouse casing, the man is left exposed, pants at his ankles, while he sits in utter shock on the throne.
That’s how I feel. The sad comic clown.
Demeaned, shocked, exposed; a repugnant brew of Humiliation and Abandonment. Exposed to the merciless elements and I’ve devoted too much thought and psychic energy to fulfilling my present predicament to let it go quite so easily.
The dream lives on but the dream weaver has moved on to newer, better, more profitable, dreams.
I will continue clinging to the dream, regardless, for the dream weaver represents the fulfillment of the repressed urge to finally realize the embodiment of “America First.” It was my motto and President Trump bellowed it out during his inaugural address on January 20.
America First resounded.
I created a graphic I’ve used proudly since last year.
And this, from CNN, further confounded my ideological grief.
Now I’m left holding this spellbinding slogan and the dream weaver has decided it means little to the future of Americans, to the substance of their interests and national desires which must take a subordinate role to the distant welfare of foreign nations because ultimately, America’s establishment elites lord over a chess board as vast as the earth’s globe, and they unilaterally decide they have no allegiance to American citizens beyond cosmetic platitudes they’ve grown callous to uttering with nary an ounce of sincerity.
I’m left clinging to this graphic, but I will never release its hold.
I am tempted to add an addendum that our “America First” President has demonstrated: promises never transcend the national boundaries of the United States. To America First, I would like to add the words, “…to clean up the world’s messes.”
CNN’s David A. Andelman writes,
Now it is up to America’s 45th president to persuade the nation and the western world to follow him over another, perhaps equally steep, cliff. Donald Trump, who throughout the campaign and the early weeks of his presidency has played the realist to Hillary Clinton’s idealist, is suddenly seeking to convince allies and the United Nations that they need to take up arms in the interest of what is right and good.
His transformation has been stunning. “For many decades,” he told the world in his inaugural address on January 20, “we’ve defended other nation’s borders while refusing to defend our own,” adding an assurance that “from this moment on, it’s going to be America First.”
It was a theme he’d repeated since he raised the concept in his first major foreign-policy address one year ago: “My foreign policy will always put the interests of the American people and American security above all else. That will be the foundation of every single decision that I will make.”
Ah, those words uttered on January 20 seem primitive and otherworldly now.
And that seemed to resonate with his followers. But at around 9:40 Thursday night, a whole new Trump seemed to emerge suddenly from the shadows.
“My fellow Americans,” he began. “Tonight, I ordered a targeted military strike on the airfield in Syria from where the chemical attack was launched.” And then came the plea, “I call on all civilized nations to join us in seeking to end the slaughter and bloodshed in Syria. And we hope that as long as America stands for justice, then peace and harmony will, in the end, prevail. Goodnight. And God bless America and the entire world.”
n any event, as John Quincy Adams concluded, “once enlisting under other banners than her own … the fundamental maxims of [America’s] policy would insensibly change from liberty to force.”
That change, it would appear, has already begun. If it persists and becomes embedded as a Trump Doctrine, only then can its impact be truly assessed.
On January 20, the dream weaver told us what we wanted to hear. We felt emboldened and proud. He said the right words and I believed we would finally see the needs of lowly Americans take global precedence at last. A President who spoke our language.
Only to see the dream abruptly transmogrify into a reprehensible charade of rote globalism. Overnight. Regime change, humanitarian temptations, but Americans’ only perk was another round of broken promises.
The dream went to sleep and awoke as a distorted shell bearing none of the substance which enervated a tired crosscurrent of Americans who were left holding the hollow masquerade of promises.
It was as if we awoke and found our dream weaver was now a nightmare peddler.