Dear President Trump,
I won’t stay on it long, but I have to get this mini-rant out of my system: the argument that the Democrats are being inappropriately “political” in ordering the IRS to give them your tax returns is even dumber than the “voters have already spoken” line of defense. First, everything is political so get over it. Second, for the House to do its job of exercising oversight on the Executive Branch, its members must understand the details of the President’s, any President’s, financial situation. We should be able to call full-stop right there, but third, you and your cronies are the last people on earth who have any standing to whine about unfair politics. Seriously, give us a break and at least try to come up with plausible excuses for hiding your dirty, filthy laundering.
The other thing that’s stuck in my craw this morning is how jingoistic the name of the Department of Homeland Security feels; it basically gives me the creeps. Wikipedia says the department is akin to other countries’ interior or home ministries and those phrasings don’t carry either the Big-Brother-on-high feel or conjure visions of vigilantes roaming around with loaded guns the way “Homeland Security” does for me.
My acute concern over the DHS moniker today is driven by what’s going on in that agency right now. You are not so subtly re-shaping it to be even more Big Brother/Vigilante-like as you jettison its leaders and replace them with Acting types who will likely be loyal to you over the Constitution. Then there’s the sick to my stomach sense that if you just keep saying the whole name of the agency over and over, stressing each word ‘home,’ ‘land,’ ‘security,’ with your hand hovering in the region where your heart is supposed to be and your eyes glazing nostalgically when you say ‘home’ and transitioning to a steely determined look by the time you get to ‘security,’ you’ll have no trouble keeping your base enthralled and convinced of the absolute necessity of the villainous changes you and Stephen are making.
On that note, I’ll leave you with a line by the punk band Pile from their song “The Soft Hands of Stephen Miller”: “we are all railing against insignificance, Steve, but you don’t have to be so vile and insufferable about it.” Same goes for you, Donald.
May we be safe from politicians who pander to their supporters’ worst instincts.
May we be happy to call them out and not become numb to the madness.
May we take care of our health as an act of defiance.
May we rise to the challenge of staying peaceful without acquiescing.