Meditation app hiccup, couldn’t access my account this morning. I guess it’s a lesson in dependency as it exposed how dependent I am on the app (and the routine it affords). Last night I stayed up to read a link E. had sent earlier to an article by a guy called Zunger who basically is calling Trump’s maneuverings a coup, or at the very least a lead-in to a coup. After I read it, I was sufficiently panicked to agree, and I also thought it was classic “coup craft” that Trump is destroying / hobbling the political party on whose ticket he was elected. That is, the Trumpists aren’t just executing a coup against the American people, us, and the Constitution (as per that article), but also against the Republican party itself. If lawmakers don’t grow some balls p.d.q. we might really be hosed. It was in that mood and state of mind that I emailed M. I didn’t even want to argue anymore over the “finer” points of gaslighting or anything. I’m really just kind of amazed at how quickly this has all gone down and we find ourselves in uncharted territory. The Hitler comparisons don’t seem so outlandish anymore, given the building panic.
At the same time, the hashtag politics of social media (e.g., #resist) are a fucking joke. Matt Stoller posted an article (from the Washington Post, if I recall correctly) about the Koch Brothers “resisting,” and he added the #resist tag to his tweet. I’m sure he was being sarcastic, especially since he subsequently posted more like this, each time with the #resist tag. Most (all, except me) respondents seemed to take him at face value, though: as if Koch Brothers opposition to Trump were “resistance.” Crazy. We live in strange times and on uncharted terrain. Yesterday’s developments were scary – the acting head of the Department of Justice got fired for disagreeing with Trump, a new acting head is in her place until Jeff Sessions is confirmed. And on it goes.
The weather turned very cold again overnight, the rhododendrons have curled their leaves in very tight and small. The cold means less moisture in the air and more sun blasting, furnace-like, through the window pane.
We Skyped with both A. and E. yesterday (not at the same time). A. continues to insist that he wants to see a silver lining – nay, a silver chalice – in all this; E. is hanging on by her fingernails, sending me articles like Zunger’s. I keep hoping the truth lies somewhere in between, but I’m leaning more to E.’s cliff.