A Small Toad in a Big House

From our political correspondent, Dorothy “Lottie” Dawe:

​Week 1 of the Trump administration was nothing short of a clusterTrump.  We wrote about it HERE.  Week 2 is promising to out-do week 1 in shock and dreadfulness.

In addition to the President’s Muslim ban (from countries which had NOTHING to do with past terror attacks on the US and where Trump has no business connections), he dismissed the Director of National Intelligence and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff from the National Security Council.  He then added neo-Nazi and avowed Leninist Steve Bannon (who has said his aim is to “destroy the state”).
 
The Boston Globe reported that “the addition of President Donald Trump’s chief strategist, Steve Bannon, to regular meetings of the country’s top national security officials was essential to the commander in chief’s decision-making process.”
 
We believe that that is somewhat of an alternative fact. The truth is that this decision of Trump’s is essential to Bannon’s decision-making process.  Another truth is that all of this is horrifying.

Pictured at the right:  Steve Bannon dictates the Muslim ban to Trump. 
 

As Week 1 mutates into Week 2, we are reminded of Emmett Lee Dickinson’s now-classic poem, “The first Week’s End had come” (below on the left).  Dickinson’s poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem “The first Day's Night had come” (below on the right).
​

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
 
The first Week’s End had come –
And startled that a week
So terrible – had been endured –
It shook my Soul to shriek –
 
I think his Strings have snapt –
And Soon – to Atoms blown –
If we don’t mend him – we have work
To take him from his Throne –
 
And then – a Day as huge
As all last week times two
Unrolled its horror in his ban –
Until it stunned me so –
 
My Brain – begun to cry –
I tweeted – like a fool –
And tho’ the Courts had helped – that Day –
My Brain keeps strug’ling – still.
 
There’s something odd – with him –
The person that he is –
And sound Mind – do not seem the same –
Could it be Madness – this?

By Emily Dickinson:
 
The first Day's Night had come –
And grateful that a thing
So terrible – had been endured –
I told my Soul to sing –

She said her Strings were snapt –
Her Bow – to Atoms blown –
And so to mend her – gave me work
Until another Morn –

And then – a Day as huge
As Yesterdays in pairs,
Unrolled its horror in my face –
Until it blocked my eyes –

My Brain – begun to laugh –
I mumbled – like a fool –
And tho' 'tis Years ago – that Day –
My Brain keeps giggling – still.

And Something's odd – within –
That person that I was –
And this One – do not feel the same –
Could it be Madness – this?
​