Where we are. An intractable divison, mutual incomprehension. The great conundrum is how to respond. Facts, schmacts. No one cares. This is about mud wrestling, not policies. And to point this out plays right into the hands of the "Fake News" multitudes.
I don't even know what to say at this point, but I do wonder about the value or purpose of the fact checkers and the lie counters (now over 12,000 during slightly more than 900 days in office, according to the latest breathless reports). The lies are now a kind of badge of honor, another way for the fans of mud wrestling to gleefully extend a middle finger to the educated "elites" with their furrowed brows. "He tells it like it is!," the mud-caked masses exclaim, which at least raises the question of just what "is" is, to quote another serial abuser of women and former president. But never mind. None of it matters except the hatred of the other side, who used to be Americans.
They still are, of course. But the incomprehension - yes, the mutual incomprehension - is real, and that's the hardest thing for me to figure out. The gap only widens. The support for this president is unfathomable, incomprehensible. I wish I understood.
"Throughout Trump’s speech, spectators came down to taunt the libs. It got tense enough that a row of helmeted cops showed up, stringing patrol bicycles end to end in the middle of the street to create an ad-hoc barricade.
“He’s a fucking con man,” the would-be Ortega on the other side is chanting now. “Don the con . . . All power to the working class!”
“We are the working class, buddy!” an older man shouts. More laughs.
“No more hate!” the protesters chant.
“Four more years, bitch!” comes the reply.
The road is only four lanes wide, but it might as well be a continent. Two groups of people, calling each other assholes across a barricade. Welcome to America in the Donald Trump era."