Orangey, You Did A Heck of a Job

One can hope that the previous resident of the Oval Office would just limp off to Florida, play some golf, take up some unexpected hobby, wait for the onerous legal problems that will plague him the rest of his life, and shut up.

Sadly, even without his social media megaphone, Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser Insurrectionist finds a way to make a statement. I won’t quote it here because I don’t want to amplify anything he says, but suffice it to say that he thinks you ought to be thanking him for that shot in your arm that now 20 percent of all Americans have received. In fact, both the Washington Post and New York Times have pushed this story as well.

Great. I’ve asked you to paint a room in my house. I return to find that you have smeared shit on one of the walls. And you expect me to thank you for a job well done.

I mean, the conversation ongoing regarding this doesn’t even address a larger issue: We are attempting to vaccinate our way out of a pandemic. And that’s stupid. Because a vaccine is not the most effective tool in the box.

Let’s say I test positive for Covid. I tell the people all the people I’ve had contact with in the last two weeks. The people go and they find those people and test all of them, and the ones who test positive, they get info on all of the people they’ve had contact with in the last two weeks. And so on. And so on. And scooby dooby dooby. This is testing and contact tracing, and, if you commence with it soon enough in a pandemic, it is the most effective way to stop the microscopic monster in its vapor. And not only did Preznit Carnage not do this. He fought it.

He didn’t do testing and tracing. He didn’t lead by example—in fact, he seemed determined to model the exact wrong behavior. He told countless lies about the pandemic, and we know he knew he was lying. He himself sponsored countless super-spreader events, including his own party’s convention. He couldn’t even keep himself and his family from getting sick.

Yes. But do you like the paint job?

Blood Libel for Fun and Profit

One strange development personally from the era of Former Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser Twice Impeached Inciter of Insurrection is that it has forced me to reassess the impeachment of President William J. Clinton.

For most of my life following that event, I had classified it as an impeachment “just for a blow job.” Living through the Carnage Era, however, has changed my thinking dramatically. I mean, it’s downright hypocritical to speculate and ponder the incredible capacity presidency 45 might have had to have been compromised without also thinking that, perhaps, a president who had an inappropriate affair with an intern and lied about it might also be considerably open to compromise.

So. While I still think there was considerable overreach by the Starr investigation—and we’re going to discuss another bit of that in a moment—I find that, in this, the Post-Carnage Era, the impeachment of President Bill Clinton doesn’t look that askew after all. I can no longer honestly spit that Clinton was impeached over a mere BJ.

Because as long as Clinton was arm-in-arm with his lie, anyone who knew about it, say, Linda Tripp, could really jack him up. Capacity for being compromised is a real danger of that office. And Clinton invited it in like it was a pretty girl. Aside from the considerable mission creep in his practice, Ken Starr may have done us a favor. It almost makes me regret wishing I had a huge spitball on me that one day when I walked past him on 18th Street that one day.

So. Marjorie Taylor Greene. Talk about a person who became a household name right quick. QAnon adherent and U.S. representative for Georgia’s 14th district. She’s said that “Q” is a “patriot.” She has said that the United States is experiencing a “Muslim invasion” because some of that faith had won national office. (For those who did not get the memo, the United States Constitution explicitly bars any religious test for holding office. Article VI. Clause 3. “…no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.”) She’s said that Democrats are “trying to keep black people in a modern-day form of slavery.” She has said that if she were black, and she walked by a statue featuring a figure from the Confederacy, “I would be so proud.”

And this is just the stuff she plays on the Borscht Belt.

I read this morning that this person believes in something called “frazzledrip.” And I am not going to explain to you what that is except to tell you that it is hideous blood libel. And, as we have just gotten done observing Holocaust Remembrance Day, I do not mind that what little hair I have left is on fire that BLOOD LIBEL is what got us THE HOLOCAUST. And this country is just playing with it like it’s a paddle-ball. It is horrifying.

But this didn’t just start last week. Oh, no. These Untied States of America has been been up to its belly button in this muck for decades. Remember when I was writing about Ken Starr and that spitball I wished for?

On July 20, 1993, a man named Vince Foster was found dead in Fort Marcy Park off the George Washington Parkway in Virginia, outside Washington, D.C. If you know the parkway, you know that one could probably find some isolation on that road pretty easily. It winds around a lot, and the traffic is whizzing by and doesn’t care. Many convenient pull-offs. This tragedy quickly spun up conspiracy theories, mainly and ridiculously placing Foster’s death at the feet of Bill and Hillary Clinton.

Vince Foster was a friend of Bill Clinton’s since childhood. I cannot imagine having to face these lies on top of facing a friend’s self-inflicted end. Losing someone one cares about to suicide is incomprehensible enough on its face without having to face horrific lies implicating you as the culprit. How un-peaceful. How horribly cruel.

Starr’s predecessor Robert Fiske had included mention of Foster in his interim report, concluding that Foster had committed suicide. In fact, as a piece by Sean Wilentz reported in September 2018 in the New York Times: “Official accounts by the National Park Service in 1993 and by a Republican congressman, William Clinger, the ranking member of the House Government Affairs Committee in 1994, came to an identical conclusion, as did a bipartisan report of the Senate Banking Committee early in 1995.”

As Wilentz continues to report, there was a fellow in Starr’s office who was still interested in pursuing this lie, despite it now being rebuffed by the previous investigator, the National Park Service, and a congressional committee. Wilentz reported at the time that this fellow wanted a “‘full-fledged’ investigation of the Foster matter.”

And that fellow now sits as a United States Justice on the Supreme Court. His name is Brett Kavanaugh.

Look. I’m sure Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony held weight for many folks. But I would have preferred to hear more during those hearings about Kavanaugh’s involvement in pursuing this horrible blood libel against the Clintons.

Which gets me back to ol’ frazzledrip. A word of advice. Do not google this unless you have a strong constitution. It is a horrific scenario. I have framed for you how horrifying I find the Vince Foster lies to have been. This is worse. Much, much worse. And Marjorie Taylor Greene, who is in the United States House of Representatives, is reported to believe it is true.

This did not start with Marjorie Taylor Greene. It did not start with Brett Kavanaugh. This stuff may be as old as the dirt that grows your potatoes. And it is wicked and injuring. But of my examples here, one of its proponents is a lifetime appointment on the highest court in the land. The other is 1/435th of the power of the purse.

Why do we keep rewarding this?


It was 363 days ago today that Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser Insurrection Inciter was first asked—by CNBC’s Joe Kernen at the World Economic Forum in Davos—about coronavirus, and he answered: “We have it totally under control. It’s one person coming in from China. It’s going to be just fine.”

From that day to yesterday, there was no serious official acknowledgement expressed of the national grief over 400,000 lives lost so far. It’s astonishing to realize this, especially when this absence of recognition was only brought to cognition, at least for me, when the President-Elect and Vice-President Elect made this remembrance an official act, perhaps the first official act of the nascent administration, yesterday.

It was a tasteful, simple gesture, the incoming chief executive and his veep and their partners, stationed at the base of the Lincoln Memorial, with the Washington Monument and Capitol building in view via the Reflecting Pool, which was always my favorite spot to visit and reflect in Washington. The Reflecting Pool had been festooned with 400 lights to represent the 400,000 lives lost. Each spoke briefly. Detroit nurse Lori Marie Key sang “Amazing Grace.” Gospel singer Yolanda Adams sang “Hallelujah.” The four then turned toward those monuments for a moment of silence.

“It’s hard sometimes to remember, but that’s how we heal. It’s important to do that as a nation,” said Biden. Contrast this with “it is what it is” from our beloved Preznit Carnage.

This contrast is going to be a weird feeling for a while, like getting one’s eyes dilated. Like that healing itch. Like waking from a nightmare so real you swore you could hear the bumps.

As I write this, the Inaugural has just ended. I have taken the day off from work because I knew I would be useless to my team today. Having witnessed via the boob tube the Capitol incursion of Jan. 6, I have to say that the “Star-Spangled Banner” has never seemed such a salient tune as it was today, as the glorious Lady Gaga turned to the flapping stars-and-stripes above her, gestured to it, and declared in song that it was “still there.” Just weeks ago, at a president’s behest, an organized band of troglodytes actually tried to replace that flag; actually walked through that building’s center bearing the alleged symbol of the long-failed confederacy; actually replaced our country’s legitimate flag with ugly blue banners bearing that boarish, ostentatious, and now-shunned brand: “Trump.”

My most striking takeaway from Biden’s speech was his own nod to President Lincoln:

In another January, on New Year’s Day in 1863, Abraham Lincoln signed the emancipation proclamation. When he put pen to paper, the president said, and I quote, “if my name ever goes down into history, it’ll be for this act, and my whole soul is in it.”

“My whole soul is in it.” Today, on this January day, my whole soul is in this: bringing America together, uniting our people, uniting our nation. And I ask every American to join me in this cause.

I believe him. And that is so reassuring. Because the last guy’s soul was all in his own ass. And even if the last guy possessed the literacy to quote Lincoln so effectively, the minute “my soul is in it” left his lips, you’d still know he was lying and that his soul is actually in his ass.

And how nice is it that entertainers no longer need to grit their teeth regarding the presidency? Trump had Lee Greenwood, Toby Keith and The Piano Guys. With Biden, we got Lady Gaga, Jennifer Lopez, and ! Garth Brooks, who always reminds me how good he is, as he did today. And, if this Inaugural did anything good, it introduced the nation to a poet so good they had to create a new Laureate post for her (I made that up, but admit it, it is plausible): Amanda Gorman, you today blew my mind.

Oh, I cannot wait for serious, policy-minded humans to be in charge again. I cannot wait to see a person in the Oval Office who does not perpetually hold a six-year-old’s notion in mind of what a president is or what they do. President Biden (man do I melt when I type this) has been left with the most arduous circumstances on the ground of anyone to take the oath before. Dude has a lot of work to do, and this is not going to be a cakewalk.

But Preznit Carnage no longer has the football. We can all exhale.

The Strange One

There was so much news to digest today that I had to turn it off and go to Turner Classic Movies, where they were featuring 1957’s The Strange One. It’s about this military school student who bullies everyone around him and oversteps his bounds drastically until all of his colleagues make him sign a confession and then throw him out of town on a train. I’m serious. That’s the movie.

Does that sound exactly like today to you at all?

You know I’ve played around with my pet names for the current president a lot. Sippycup. Sharpie. Always Preznit Carnage as an honorific. But that last part has always been different because he’s always screwing up in some different or unusual way that requires a new variant. But after today, that stops. From now on, the official pet name for the current chief executive of these Untied States is:

Preznit Carnage the Incursion Inciter.

Because that’s what he did, and that’s what he did. He invited people into Washington, D.C., a place I called my residence for 14 years and one of my homes for many years before that. Background: My Dear Old Dad moved to Washington when I was like 12, so I spent much time there as a youngster, exploring anywhere I wanted on the Metro, which was actually safe and worked well at the time. Later, I moved there and had a career as a journalist and as a web-slinger for a medium-sized trade association. 14 years. And when you have that much Washington in your experience, you tend to take an attack on the Capitol PERSONALLY.

In 1989, Sen. Claude Pepper died, four days after receiving the National Medal of Freedom from Pres. George H.W. Bush. My Dad and I went to pay our respects to Claude in the Rotunda, where he lay in state. Another time, Dad and I were momentarily detained by Capitol Police as some muckety-muck from overseas walked through with his entourage. I have roots in the building. Memories. It was a visual background to much of my life and many memories. I have been in that chamber as a tourist and as a student. And I still revere that site and the democracy that those people create and nurture in it every day.

We’re going to walk down. Anyone you want, but I think right here, we’re going to walk down to the Capitol–

And we’re going to cheer on our brave senators and congressmen and women and we’re probably not going to be cheering so much for some of them.

Because you’ll never take back our country with weakness. You have to show strength and you have to be strong.

Preznit Carnage the Incursion Inciter invited these people to the President’s Park South, also known as the Ellipse. This is the staging area for the annual Easter Egg Roll. This is the site of the Christmas Pageant of Peace. White House garden tours start here. And this is where Donald J. Trump gathered his marauders and gave them their marching orders. This is where the bloodshed started. From here, people were eventually crushed to death, or shot, or [allegedly] tased their balls to the point of fatal stroke. From here is were many more were injured. And it could have been so much worse. When those hairy gross marauders took the chamber, they were looking for Vice-President Mike Pence.

We want to be so respectful of everybody. And we are going to have to fight much harder. And Mike Pence is going to have to come through for us, and if he doesn’t, that will be a sad day for our country. Because you’re sworn to uphold our Constitution.

Trump mentioned his own vice-president to the crowd and was throwing chum in the water. Tell me he wasn’t doing that on purpose. Tell me he wasn’t intent on harm to the man who has spent the last four years looking at the back of his head like it was a delicious cookie straight out of the oven. Those people went in looking for Mike Pence, and they said so, and I do not even want to think about the headlines had they found him.

He invited these people to Washington, D.C. He held an event for them. He spoke at that event, and he told them to go to the Capitol. Rudy Giuliani borrowed from Game of Thrones in the weirdest way, calling for “trial by combat.” He told them to go up Pennsylvania Avenue.

So we are going to–we are going to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue, I love Pennsylvania Avenue, and we are going to the Capitol, and we are going to try and give–the Democrats are hopeless, they are never voting for anything, not even one vote but we are going to try–give our Republicans, the weak ones because the strong ones don’t need any of our help, we’re try–going to try and give them the kind of pride and boldness that they need to take back our country. So let’s walk down Pennsylvania Avenue.

He told them to go, and they went. People were shot to death. People were crushed to death. People probably spread bug-loads of SARS-CoV-2. There was lots of smoke. They made our Capitol look and feel like New Caprica, after President Baltar had signed the kill orders, and the Cylon forces going on the hunt. Yes. It was that bad.

So I am buoyed by the Democrats’ plans. We’ve called for his resignation. Beyond that, we’ve called for his removal via the 25th amendment. Beyond that, we’re going to impeach. A fourth option would be to shove him in a prison cell with a fresh copy of the Washington Post and a pistol, but I reckon Ernst Röhm’s fate is too good for this eczema shit who still has the title “President” for 12 more days.

I don’t know about you. But I want every lever thrown at this that can be thrown. I want impeachment. I want pressure on Pence and the Cabinet to exercise the 25th. I want pressure on him to resign. I want investigations. I want subpoenas. I want people to get divorced for this; I want them impoverished; I want boils on their skin and diarrhea pouring out of them constantly. I am so angry about his event that I am ready for giant Earth-holes to just open up and start sucking up every Trump and Trump-related asshole in the whole wide world.

Except for Mary, of course. We love Mary Trump, down to the acoustic guitar she casually leans on the wall behind her when she’s interviewed.

But for all the rest of them, I want the Earth to gobble them up, starting with their faces.

I apparently am a lucky boy, for my wishes are starting to come true. Twitter today has disallowed Trump’s tweets. And let me be clear that this is not undue censorship because the government is not initiating it, and because when you sign up for Twitter, you click on a EULA, and because obscenity is not protected speech, so SHUT UP. Facebook is shunning the dude as well. As is Reddit. Google is threatening to take Parler off its store. And, oh yes, Congress is going to impeach his humongous ass AGAIN.

Like many of you, probably, I have been subsisting through this negligent, lazy, purposely uninformed, wreckless, bullying, shitty presidency for four years, figuring hey, I survived W, I can do this. The problem is that we’re not. We’re not surviving this. We’re up to 4,000 deaths a day from Covid-19, a crisis that, with much better management from the White House, could have been much less fatal. By the way, if you’re looking for a job, sign up as a contract tracer. I have a friend and former boss who has been out of work for nearly a year due to Covid and has finally landed as a contact tracer. Wishing you just as much luck as our economy is just as much a morgue as those refrigerated trucks.

Aren’t you tired of this? I’m so tired of this. And even though we’ve come this far, after what we saw happen Wednesday, I just don’t think we can do it any longer. Not another day. Not another minute. Not another second. We have to do everything we can to end this presidency as soon as possible. I don’t care how many days are left or what the chances are of a conviction in the Senate or what the political ramifications are.

Take every step possible to remove him as soon as possible. If I were king of the world I would doth decree.

So say we all.

Well, That Was Some Weird Shit

“Time for a shower.”

This was the last line I typed into my personal journal at about 1:30 p.m. today. Previous to this, I had summarized some of what was going on in Congress on the TV.

I think the joint session approved a couple of states, and then they got an objection submitted in writing for Arizona. Now they’re debating.

Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser is seeing “0-12” in the chyron right now and going “See? I won! Look! See? I won! Yippee!”

Little did I know.

My ablutions complete, I came back to my tube, expecting to witness an annoying, unnecessary, drawn out legislative process led by an extremist sect, to question some of the already most thoroughly-vetted national election results ever. I un-muted—I had muted the television when Ted Cruz was on, which I think is perfectly understandable—but I was ready and looking forward to it.

And then, the weird shit began to happen.

I was watching MSNBC (because of course I was). The pool cameras went to mute. Some in the chamber started gesturing weirdly. Vice-Preznit Pence was rushed out of the room. People started dashing around. At some point, official looking people rushed in. Soon, the reports limped in. The Capitol was being invaded. The safety of our Congress-critters was in question. They all went on lockdown. I’ve never seen the sweet, sweet Katy Tur every sound so upset.

(What? I have a crush. Who doesn’t?)

That was a tough spot for me. Because I was feeling horrified and really really sad for my country. And because, right at that time is when I usually start logging into my tools for my day job.

I don’t mind telling you that I momentarily considered calling in. And I do not call in unless I’m dead.

But I got it together for the job but kept an eye on the TV and an ear on another longtime media crush of mine, the one and only Randi Rhodes. And hearing her familiar voice freaking out right along with me, well, it helped.

Anyway, I can’t help but think about Charlottesville. Remember Charlottesville? “Unite the Right?” Buncha honkies marching with tiki-torches uttering nonsense concerns about “Jews” “replacing” “us?” Heather Danielle Heyer assassinated by automobile? Yeah. Doesn’t the energy of that day feel a teeny little bit like the same energy surrounding today’s violent and terrifying assault on the Capitol?

Charlottesville was in August 2017. That’s eight months following the inauguration of Preznit Carnage Sippycup Is The New Black. A whipped up crowd of undeservedly or misled angry white people with violent, destructive intentions seems to be an inevitable result of having this person as our chief executive. This seems to be his magick. Even if one doesn’t think in terms of magick or energy, it certainly is telling that events that have the spittin’ image of a putsch will bookmark this presidency in its legacy.

Notwithstanding some miracle, he has 13 days left. Buckle up.

Put A Lid On It

Well. Happy new year.

It’s going to be a whiz-banger of a week. For starters, on Jan.4, we will see the first anticipated album release of the year, as Steve Earle and the Dukes will drop “J.T.” as a digital release. This is sure to be a touching album as it features songs from Earle’s son Justin Townes Earle, who died this year of an overdose. It is released on this date to coincide with what would have been the younger Earle’s 39th birthday. Proceeds from the album’s purchase will be donated to a trust for Etta St. James Earle, the three-year-old daughter of Justin and Jenn Earle. There’s my first plug.

Then on Jan. 5, there’s this thing going on in Georgia. Something about affecting the entire makeup of the U.S. Senate and breaking the cruel, illogical stranglehold that the Republican “Moscow” Mitch McConnell has on any type of reasonable, progressive legislation has of even being considered for passage. I found a few bucks to send to Jon Ossoff and Rev. Raphael Warnock. If you can too, go for it. ActBlue makes it easy. There’s my second plug. There will be a third plug below, and I will thank you for engaging with that one as well.

Then on Jan. 6, a joint session of Congress will be held to certify the results of the 2020 preznential eleckshun. This is often a routine affair, although we should be reminded that House Democrats, mostly from the Congressional Black Caucus, persistently challenged the election result in 2000 and again in 2016, with no assistance from a single Senator. However, I am not equivocating those efforts with the certain-to-be ridiculous challenges that Republicans are promising. The Supreme Court handed W that election, and all evidence says if the recount had continued, it woulda been President Gore. And I probably don’t need to tell you how 2016’s election was weird as a pine-tarred bat.

But 2020’s election was as straightforward and honest as Mary Richards. Number of electoral votes that margin Joe Biden’s victory: 74. Number of votes between the candidates: More than seven million. Percentage-wise, that’s 4.4 percent. Lawsuits tossed out on their asses: 59/60. Christopher Krebs, former director of the cybersecurity and infrastructure security agency, says “The November third election was the most secure in American history.” Even former Attorney General of the United States, rat-fink Bill Barr could not justify attempts to overturn this election result. Even he had to concede that “to date, we have not seen fraud on a scale that could have effected [sic] a different outcome in the election.”

And yet, here we are.

Out of 435 House members, 140 are now on record as intending to challenge the 2020 election results. Unlike when Democrats previously challenged election results, there is now at least one Republican Senator, Josh Hawley, who is on the record that he will sign a challenge.

This is an obscenity. To review the Trump presidency with any objectivity is to conclude that this was an incompetent, embarrassing, horrible awful president who did not do his job and lost the election because he did not do his job. He refused to put any of the powers of the federal government to work to battle this insidious virus. He bullshat insane ideas about conquering the virus off the top of his head in official White House briefings to the public. From this era’s incipience, he maintained that he would not bring those suffering cruise-goers to shore because it would be bad for the numbers. He said this in public and in front of a television camera. Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser could not even protect himself nor his own family from contracting this, nor dozens to hundreds of his own loyal supporters. He didn’t do his job. He does not deserve another term. We fired him. He needs to be sent out with a box full of his stuff.

What confounds me most daily is how easy it would have been for him to legitimately retain his office for another term. He wouldn’t have even had to enact any public policy, nor would he had to have been the effective deal-maker he claimed to be. Nothing fancy or complicated. No, Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser could have retained his office for another term just by leaning on any scintilla of decency he might have possessed. He could have worn a mask. He could have not mocked mask-wearers and not turned it into a political issue. He could have not held Covid-19 briefings with a packed dais of non-mask wearers. He could have not held a Convention at the White House where attendees were sitting in each others’ laps. He could have not held dozens of political rallies where people were standing in one anothers’ pockets.

This moron could have retained his office not by any machinations of the federal government nor sound and just public policy. He could have stayed just by being a decent person. He couldn’t. Because he isn’t. And the simple fact is that to be a Republican today, you have to think otherwise of him, and that’s insane. These Congress-critters are going to make Jan. 6 an unnecessarily tragic day in these Untied States of America. I will be wearing black that day. We should all.

My third plug: One of my best friends in the known universe is in the hospital with Covid-19. Please keep Clifford Bailey in your thoughts and prayers, if you think and/or pray or that kind of thing. Thank you, and mazel tov.

What About Stacey Abrams’ Concession Speech?

Watching Meet the Press usually manages to piss me off. But I do it anyway. Every Sunday morning, I reel up my DVR to watch Chuck Todd and his weird Caesar haircut to continue to advocate tirelessly for false equivocation. As thus it went today, as Todd was interviewing Sen. Lamar Alexander, Republican of Tennessee.

To be fair, Todd pressed Alexander pretty good regarding Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser’s recalcitrance to acknowledge the true result of the 2020 preznential election. Alexander’s position was that we’ll know for sure what the result was on Monday when the electors vote, and golly, I sure hope Preznit Carnage One-Term Loser “puts the country first” (he won’t), “takes pride in his considerable accomplishments” (whut?), and “congratulates the President-Elect and helps him get off to a good start” (fat chance).

It only took three minutes for Alexander to submit to a “what-about.”

Todd: All right, I don’t remember these same comments four years ago. On Hillary Clinton should get more time and all of this stuff. I mean do you see why it looks like a double standard?


Todd did some huminah huminah and said that he’s “not here to talk about Stacey Abrams.”

Well, let’s. Since Todd was unprepared with the facts, let’s clear the air on what Stacey Abrams did or did not do.

Abrams did not concede, and in fact has continued to question the legitimacy of the 2018 election process in Georgia. I don’t know where she might have gotten that wacky idea, considering that her opponent was Georgia Secretary of State Brian Kemp. You know. The fella what runs the elections and voter registration.

On Nov. 18, Abrams spoke publicly, and she said: “I acknowledge that former Secretary of State Brian Kemp will be certified as the victor in the 2018 gubernatorial election.

“But to watch an elected official—who claims to represent the people of this state, baldly pin his hopes for election on the suppression of the people’s democratic right to vote—has been truly appalling. So, to be clear, this is not a speech of concession.

“Concession means to acknowledge an action is right, true or proper. As a woman of conscience and faith, I cannot concede. But my assessment is that the law currently allows no further viable remedy.”

Alexander is technically correct; Abrams did not concede. But the dude is splitting hairs. She did acknowledge the official result.

We will never get as much from the current Preznit.


“What we’ve done is we have managed to as a country consign reason to the sidelines. We don’t think anymore; we feel, and that’s a large part of the pandemic tragedy. ‘I don’t feel like wearing a mask,’ ‘I don’t feel like listening to a doctor,’ ‘I don’t feel like listening to experts.’ Well, we don’t really care. I mean, the purpose of the Enlightenment was that your thoughts and data and fact would at least have a chance against feelings, and emotions, and passions, and appetites, and ambitions. We’ve done pretty well for a long time with that, not great. What’s basically happened, I think, broadly, is that—a 1964 historian named Richard Hofstadter wrote an essay called “The Paranoid Style in American Politics,” and it’s this recurrent suspicion that there is a larger conspiracy out there of unseen forces. Because people have a fundamental human need to believe that there are these secret forces that are arrayed against them. And every moment is Armageddon. Every moment is existential. And so therefore, compromise is not possible. And what’s happened is the paranoid style, which was the John Birchers in ’64 has widened to a huge swath of the country. And the big task for all of us, and I think it’s a task of citizenship, and talking to your neighbors, and just actually trying to say, look, there is such a thing as fact.”

—Historian Jon Meacham, on Real Time with Bill Maher, Nov. 20, 2020