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Now that we can anxiously glimpse possible exits from these nine circles of Trump we've been treading for an eternity of three years, I realize that I have PPTSD: Political Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Probably we all do; if you don't yet, I bet you will.

Okay. So we’ve learned to be alert about Trump’s creativity when it comes to diversionary tactics. To get himself out of a corner, he will do anything, including initiate a war—sacrificing American casualties and, in the case of the Kurds, the lives of allies who’d fought beside GIs against the so-called "Islamic state" caliphate. We’ve learned we need to peer behind the scenes to look for or surmise what’s really going on, which is inevitably nefarious in Trump world. So here are a few things to keep an eye on, especially now, as his lawyers realize they need to lawyer up themselves with lawyers, his minions begin to topple like bowling pins, and the vise tightens around him. Some people say that after the House impeaches him, as begins to look inevitable, the GOP-controlled Senate might actually convict him, despite previous assumptions; the polls are sinking him as if by...

At last we can proclaim a sentence so many Americans have been waiting for: the majority of registered voters—not just registered Democratic voters but all registered voters—now believe that Donald Trump should be impeached.

By the time you read this, everything will have changed again—but a girl can only work with what she’s got, and what I’ve got are words. True to character, I’ve been fascinated by the use of language—hilarious, heartbreaking, and most of all revealing— during this whole Ukraine-gate horror, this hubristic trap self-created by Trump that bodes to be what will finally bring him down. Leave aside for the moment how pundits are busy ”unpacking” the layers of corruption, or how Trump loyalists are “doubling down.” Take, for instance, the most common words used this past week by Republican members of the House and Senate when cornered by the press asking them to describe their reactions to this latest violation of law and betrayal of country by their Beloved Leader. Disturbing is the most commonly used word, barely edging out troubling. Mitt Romney was disturbed. Ben Sasse was troubled. Well,...

That’s an odd, uncomfortable title for any writing of mine. I thought I thought vengeance a waste of energy. Then a recent barrage of news stories set me off. Nothing unique about any of them, given the pattern we’re used to under patriarchy. But the barrage, across a range of contexts, kept drumming the same insult home. There’s Trump's boy, Brett Kavanaugh, confirmed to the Supreme Court for life by the narrowest of margins, after having been credibly, publicly, convincingly accused of sexual assault, and responding with an indignant tantrum before the Senate committee. Now the story breaks that additional credible witnesses contacted the FBI to testify in agreement with Dr. Blasey Ford, the survivor of his assault—but the FBI refused even to interview them. Did the FBI, pressured by the White House and GOP-dominated Senate, just cave in? Was the FBI worn out by right-wing accusations against its own...

Back from hiatus! I confess that over the summer, I considered making this blog a Trump-free zone, since we're all so fatigued by hearing him, about him, about his policies and their disastrous effects. But that would be neither responsible nor possible, unless we were proverbial ostriches.

This has been a painful time, while the old hegemonies have been massing together to try and suffocate what is inevitably coming to birth in our Republic, in the world. Yet the flip side has been that we’re living through a golden age of journalism. When the Executive branch of government was kidnapped, when the Judicial is endangered by being packed, and when half the Legislative seems silenced, we are still here, in fact still advancing, only because of investigative reporting by The New York Times, The Washington Post, The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, The Los Angeles Times, and others.

“I’m sick and tired of bein’ sick and tired!” That’s what Fannie Lou Hamer, the magnificent Civil Rights leader and head of the Mississippi Freedom Democrats said, and I thought I understood what she meant back in the 1960s. But now I understand it in my bones. You determine to manufacture affirmation. It’s a deliberate decision. You seek affirmation as if it were a place, and so it is. It’s the place where Yes We Can comes from. Anger can get you there–and women especially have a hard time with anger. But we’re learning to walk that path. Religion gets some people there. Love get some people there. There are many roads. It’s the mysterious place of reserve from which we draw resilience, imagination, even humor. Endurance--and pride in endurance. Art flourishes there. Like jazz and lullabies. Signals flash there, like songs, puzzles, quilts with codes that map directions...

I became so incandescent yet inarticulate with rage on hearing Trump say flat-out, whether from arrogance or ignorance or both, that of course he would accept foreign interference in U.S. elections if that would permit him to retain power, that rather than stammer any comment in tongue-tied fury I thought it preferable to rely on my betters. Here are two startlingly applicable examples of my betters holding forth with their highly relevant views. The first is George Washington. The Framers were particularly and justifiably worried about foreign intervention into the fledgling nation, so that was not only the subject of the now-famous-because-so-violated-by-Trump Emoluments Clause in the Constitution but it also took up a substantial proportion of Washington’s great Farewell Address. Here is a small excerpt: As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, . . . attachments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened and independent patriot. How many opportunities do...