Anyone who was at the Republican National Convention in Cleveland saw this coming. Heidi Cruz was reportedly physically threatened inside the convention hall. The frisson of danger that ran through Quicken Loans Arena was palpable and very, very real. Anyone who was at the Inauguration saw this coming. The address summoned up the desolate, witch-thickened wasteland he’d been handed. He had a memorable phrase for it.
It came, finally—American Carnage, that is—on the streets and sidewalks of Thomas Jefferson’s college town. He couldn’t call it by its name. He couldn’t heal the country because he’d hidden himself in its wounds.
As horrifying as the video of the murderous automobile was, there was another image from Charlottesville that shook me even more deeply. At some point in the long and bloody afternoon, a phalanx of local militia wannabes took up posts around Emancipation Park. They were dressed like Croatian guerrillas and they carried formidable firearms. As far as I know, they didn’t do anything worth noting, but they were standing there as heralds to a very bleak future.
We now know what the reaction will be if the institutions of government, and the people in them, get so sickened by this administration that they act to rid the country of it. Is there any doubt that a president* who, after the events of this weekend, can’t even see fit to rid himself of the fascists around him, including the ludicrous Dr. Sebastian Gorka, Ph.D., wouldn’t balk at encouraging paranoid violence as a means of self-preservation? Is there any doubt that a president* who could not even muster the gumption or the outrage to criticize Nazis for what they are wouldn’t blink at bringing the temple down on his own head either out of pure childish pique, or because he doesn’t know any other way?
Except for himself and (possibly) his family, there is nothing this president* cares enough about to keep from destroying it if he thinks he has to do so. And, if he…