You were a school kid whose family had pooled their funds in order to send you and your sibs to Washington, DC to confront your government about the murder of school children in our country? Murders caused by lack of meaningful and effective laws protecting your classmates from mayhem never envisioned by the Founders when they crafted the 2nd Amendment?
How would you feel, this morning, when you arrived in the District of Columbia and found:
–Our President gone for the weekend.
–Both Houses of Congress boarded up because the members left yesterday on ten days vacation.
Or must they become castrati before they enter Congress. Does it make a difference if they are Senators or Representatives? And what about female members — are they unafflicted by an equivalent condition?
I have so many questions. Who has the answers. Our president surely doesn’t. But, what a guy; he has the Congressional Castrati believing he is the one holding all the balls.
So, our president is in France, ostensibly to help M. Macron and the French people celebrate Bastille Day, that noble Day of Triumph when common men and women overthrew an entrenched monarchy.
Little do our European allies know that the Donald’s actual mission is to cheat them out of the Palace of Versailles by claiming he is there as a refugee seeking shelter from the Fake Press that has dogged his existence since assuming his exalted office. “Please, Monsieur le President, grant me use of your humble Palace until I, and my victimized family, get our feet on the ground.”
“Of course, Donald, we have just the place for you! Surprise! We rebuilt it just for you.”
“The Nazi invasion of the USSR in June 1941 heralded the beginning of the most titanic battle in the history of humanity. The war ended in complete defeat for Nazi Germany less than four years later with the fall of Berlin on May 9, 1945. Over 20,000,000 Soviet citizens and soldiers died in the struggle to liberate the Motherland from the fascist aggressors.” — www.marxists.org.
Why in the dickens did President Trump choose, for his special day, this name?
This upcoming Friday I would pull myself together, checking my wardrobe and making sure, even though my suit would be hidden by my judicial robe, that it was neatly pressed and had my USAF Good Conduct Ribbon on my lapel.
Although administering the oath to an incoming President is not a Constitutionally assigned duty, it is, so far as I am concerned, an awesome responsibility. I’ve done this task before, swearing-in our current President twice. Why am I feeling such anxiety now?
As I ride to the Capitol in the limo, that was two minutes early, I decide that I will change my usual script; I will preface some remarks prior to the oath: “President-Elect Trump, please understand that when I administer an oath of fealty, I personally monitor the performance of the sworn individual. In the instance of a person being elevated to the highest elected office of the United States, I will view breach of the oath of office in the most unfavorable terms. Let us begin:
Do you …”
I feel much better now, knowing that I will be putting Donald on notice and, at the same time, publicly assigning myself the responsibility for falling on my sword if he fails to do his duty.