TOES

I’ve been neglecting the blog of late.  Part of the explanation is that my muse seems to have left the building, but I think it’s also what I’m calling “TOES”: Trump Outrage Exhaustion Syndrome.  It’s simply too great a psychological burden to maintain a sufficient level of righteous indignation when confronted with an avalanche of heinous presidential dumbfuckery.  It’s a relentless onslaught.  Every time I think it can’t possibly get any worse, the bar gets lowered another notch.

It seems as if every time I turn on my TV or open my browser or click over to Facebook, there’s a new episode of “He did what?” or “They said what?” or “Holy brimstone boiling hell, that can’t possibly be true!”, and by the time my blood pressure has dipped back into high double digits, some new bigger more horrific gut-wrenching Washingtonian train wreck has left the rails.

By the time it settles into my brain that he’s appointed the CEO of Exxon-Mobil to deal with the Russian oil oligarchs, I’m confronted with an Education secretary who holds public education in the same high regard I reserve for jock itch, and while I’m preparing to rail against that abomination, we get an EPA chief who’s sued the EPA 1500 times, a HUD secretary who sees public housing as “social engineering”, and a guy overseeing our nuclear weapons whose greatest intellectual accomplishment to date was to memorize enough steps to make it way further on “Dancing With the Stars” than anyone had expected.  There just isn’t enough outrage in my whole body to keep up with that kind of assault.

In the last week, Trump has appointed a woman to head the federal family planning program who has argued out loud that contraception doesn’t work, followed in short order by the House passing an Obamacare repeal/healthcare reform bill that essentially limits your healthcare options to death by starvation, death by dehydration, and death by infection resulting in starvation and dehydration.  Just when I thought that would cause some sort of apoplectic aneurysmal rupture, the sons of bitches doubled down with about a hundred rich white guys posing for a self-congratulatory high-fiving butt-slapping circle jerk of a photo op staged behind the mindless smirking countenance of President Alfred E. Newman.

None of it would be near as bad if it wasn’t for this man-child compounding and exponentially multiplying his evident ignorance and stupidity with those fingernails-on-a-blackboard tweets.  Just in the last two days, he attacked Sally Yates’ character and veracity before she even testified and then went on to tweet that she’d said exactly the opposite of what she’d actually said, and included a spelling error! (The kind that you bitch at your own teenagers about, to vs. too vs. two, or in this case council vs. counsel). It’s a degrading and embarrassing indignity on the very institution of the presidency.  If this guy was in middle school instead of the White House, he’d be called into the principal’s office and expelled for cyberbullying.

Ok, I’m done.  It’s Trump Outrage Exhaustion Syndrome.  I’ll be back when it wears off.