What now? Living in the real world while the alien spacecraft makes death rattles

The other day I listened to Joe Biden as he spoke about the transition and other stuff. Then he took questions from reporters.

OMG remember when a president sounded like this?

Actually, I wasn’t thinking of the Manichean-esque situation we’re in. I wasn’t thinking of the alien spacecraft at all. The awfulness of the past four years, spiked by the special horror of the last year, did not even penetrate my concentration.

What most affected me was Biden’s relaxed serenity, and his dry sense of humor. When he repeated, “Secretary of State Mike Pompeo,” he managed to shrink Pompeo into a bug running around the room, while somehow not being openly contemptuous. It was so easy.

And then when a reporter asked him what he’d do if the Republicans continued their bizarre business of not accepting his presidency.

“They will,” he said calmly, with a smile.

In that smile were the years of his experience with the US government, and US politicians, and behind that smile was the understanding of such political games, of the loudness of them, the melodramatic posturing, the balloon of hot air, and how it all collapses when reality intrudes.

It’s odd, isn’t it? Trump and his crazy cohort are no longer in my sights. It’s as if they’ve shrunk already into insignificance. They flail, they yell, they scream, they lie, they do nothing but fire and hire people in an impotent administration. It’s sort of like watching little kids play at being grown-ups running a corporation.

And the GOP? They’ve been floating in the Trump spacecraft (which is, I think, a balloon — transparent) for all these years and they’re terrified about what to do next. Do they land the balloon and emerge? Do they stay in it until some little kid shoots an arrow into the side and WHOOSH?

They don’t know what to do. They are scared of what comes next because they don’t know what it will be. And they’re scared of the absurd white supremacist armed gangs, because they bought into the Trump myth of the Great Uprising, of violence during the election. Which didn’t happen. What happened was: COVID spiked. About which they didn’t know what to do, either.

Pitiful. They are all pitiful.

As I find them at the remote periphery of my attentions, I’m thinking about Stacey Abrams. Who is important.

 

 

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