The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

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The FBI, those g-men from the Deep State, raided the home of the President-in-Exile awhile back.  Oh sure, they had search warrants, probably phony, no doubt printed on stationary stolen from some federal judge’s office, all to embarrass the man who might choose to run again for the office he claims repeatedly he never lost.  His followers, MAGA hats bent out of shape, and his political allies, egg slimed on their faces, screamed bloody murder, claimed the Justice Department was politicized and weaponized.  They protest too much, methinks.  DOJ asked nicely six months ago for the classified documents Trump squirreled from White House to Mar-a-Lago to be returned, something about felonious theft of public documents the National Archives were supposed to safeguard.

Maybe they knew the guy who notoriously destroyed memos, deleted emails and otherwise hid his activities from view might want to flush more classified documents down the toilet in his back bedroom.  Must have gone through their minds when nothing they said or did could convince Team Trump to turn over those boxes of missing documents, no doubt mistakenly moved, might have thought they were wedding pictures of the kids.  Probably nothing incriminating in there.

The resulting furor erupting from the Trump Universe varies from a call to Civil War to threats to investigate and ultimately hang the Attorney General and anyone else who authorized that search warrant once Republicans return to power, who cares that it is a High Bar to obtain a warrant for anyone, much less a former President of the United States.  Who cares that the Trumpster wanted to weaponize not only the Department of Justice but the military too?  Who cares that they subjected Hillary Clinton to an endless round of investigations over email servers and Benghazi?  This, though, this raid on poor innocent Donald, cannot be tolerated.

Politics, the art of the absurd.  Trump, in another legal setback, was ordered to show his tax returns.  He’ll be in New York federal court today, no doubt pleading the 5^th, but asking his followers for donations to help him fight against the endless Witch Hunt he’s being subjected to.  Write a check to the Save America Fund, he begs.  It gets increasingly harder to tell what America he and his minions are talking about.  Nothing I recognize anymore.

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A buddy asked me to meet him at a local pub for a beer recently, even said he’d buy … so naturally I overcame my hesitancy for imbibing alcohol and met up with him outdoors at the tavern at Terry’s Corner.  He was with a friend and by the time I’d stood in line waiting to buy my own ale, he was joined by another friend.  Soon after I got introduced, one of our artist buddies shambled over, then another late arrival and we had a picnic table party on our hands.  It was all pleasant enough chatting it up with a few new folks and old, but finally I swilled the last of my beer, pushed up from my seat and said, ‘Boyz, I got to get on home and save a marriage.’

They protested mildly but as men of the world, they understood.  Can’t be staying out all night drinking and carousing.  After all, we’re not twenty-somethings anymore.  Yesterday my pal rolled into the shop while I was working and after some amusing palaver he asked me what I thought of the folks I’d met the other night.  Nice guys, I said.  He gave me a querulous look and I said, what?  ‘Zorba’, I finally said, ‘maybe I missed something the other night.  I left early, remember?’

‘What do you think about the idea of getting together once in awhile?  On a regular basis.’

‘A drinking society?’ I asked.  ‘No,’ he said, ‘more like a men’s club.  You know, discuss issues.  Men’s issues.’

Jeepers, creepers, the idea of sitting around bellyaching about my man problems just never entered my mind, I guess, so I said as politely and delicately as I could, hell no, life’s too short.  The drinking part sounded okay, but the rest, not so much.  I’ve been in writers’ groups, artists’ groups, music groups … and trust me, I don’t recommend them to anyone unless they have a deep seated penchant for masochism.  I used to join boards back when I thought cross pollination might bring cultural awareness to our little island, so I attended countless meetings, sometimes one a day, for over a year.  Talk talk talk and nothing ever got done.  And we didn’t even drink at those which made it all the more senseless besides a total waste of time.

Zorba must have read my mind.  ‘We could drink too, you know.  Maybe discuss age related stuff, senior issues, old timers like us.’  Oh boy, now that would be fun, you tell me your latest surgery story and I’ll tell you about my trick knee.  Misery loves company, so they say, but I don’t think it cares for guests.  ‘Count me out, man, I’m too young for that.  You old farts have at it, be something to take you away from Wheel of Fortune if nothing else.  You want to start a Woman’s Group, I might consider it, but no way some drum circle with a bunch of men.’

So I missed my golden opportunity to join a Men’s Club.  My chance to air my grievances, my white male diminished privilege, my Viagra stories and bladder issues.  Fortunately for me, I have this blogsite.  Unfortunately for you…

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We need to turn down the heat, our President-in-Exile said today.  What oh what could he do to help? he wondered, saying he’d offered the Department of Justice assurances he would assist them in any way he could.  Of course then he tweeted that the American people would not stand for any more witch hunting shenanigans by the FBI.  Thanks, Donald, for trying to put out the fire.  Next time, don’t use flammables in a high wind.

I guess if I had multiple legal problems, I’d think about starting a backfire, see if we could draw attention to Over There, Look!  They Raided My Beautiful House, They Swiped My 3 Passports, They Even Took Those Top Secret Nuclear Files That Don’t Exist But If They Do They Got De-classified Before I Left Office!  And anyway, I offered to give them back but they snuck in and stole them.  You know, if they even exist.  And if they are there, the FBI planted them.

I know ten year old punk kids who can make better excuses than this guy.  Some can even stick to their story without changing it every day.  The question I want to ask my MAGA friends is how they would look at this story if it were anyone else but Trump.  I’m not even talking about Obama or Hillary.  Just anybody.  Joe Schmoe, say, who happens to have a basement full of top secret files the government asked to get back but who, for whatever reason, decided to keep.  Files on sensitive operations, nuclear secrets, who knows what on the French President, files that were never meant to be moved without authorization.  What would you think we should do when Joe says he gave them back, nothing to see in his basement that would interest the FBI and anyway, Joe claims they’re not really confidential materials, go whistle in the dark.

Okay, I know what my MAGA friends would say.  Deep State, government conspiracy, innocent when proven guilty, best President we ever had, witch hunt, witch hunt, witch hunt, stolen election, Benghazi Benghazi.  I know too what I would say. Lock Him Up!

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“I once asked, ‘If you’re innocent, why are you taking the Fifth Amendment?’ Now I know the answer to that question,” Trump’s account posted on Truth Social, his social media platform.  Quite a revelation from the man who previously mocked those who chose to stay quiet under questioning.  The answer, at least to those who have listened to him these past long years, is that answering truthfully is not part of his job description and would open him up to charges of perjury.  Lying under oath is a little different than continuous lying in public.  Ask Alex Jones.

These are tough times for the Prez-in-Exile.  Multiple grand jury inquiries, FBI raids on his party house, loss of his Twitter mouthpiece, a January 6^th congressional investigation that plays like a viral miniseries on nearly every station and occasionally even Fox.  Witch Hunting, Season 2.  It’s interesting how many Republican allies jumped to his defense when the FBI came to Mar-a-Lago with a search warrant looking for boxes moved from the White House containing classified documents belonging to the National Archives, a crime punishable by fines and/or prison time.  Trump is above the law, according to his defenders, evidently.  Nothing new there…. I suspect the outrage reflects a fear of similar warrants for various crimes and misdemeanors his sycophant acolytes committed prior to January 6^th, a sense that the waves are crashing in and it’s too late for the rats to abandon a sinking ship.

What I have a hard time understanding is the poor schmucks out there in Facebookland who think this guy was the greatest president of all time, a guy who should get a pass when he breaks the law, when he incites a crowd to violence, who supports white nationalists and dogwhistles racist dogma.  I heard friends say they voted for him because he was a good businessman.  So was Bernie Madoff and Al Capone.  And I voted for Hilary because she made the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue.  Gimme a break.

These folks know he broke the law.  Repeatedly.  They just don’t give a damn.  Maybe they honestly believe he had an election stolen from him, just that Deep State keeping those Venezuela voting machines from being investigated.  I honestly don’t get it anymore.  Facts don’t matter.  Truth is a joke.  Trump is innocent before we can prove him guilty.  The Republican Party is betting they can keep these folks in the dark.  Betting that the country won’t turn completely fascist, that they can ride this tiger.  Me, I think all bets are off.

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