The Trump regime is in the midst of a solid collapse. It’s not just his loss at the polls. He lost the magic. The mojo is shot. Gone are the legendary waterproof Trump. Now he is a gruff and frustrated man, facing humiliation, prosecution and ignominy – a man who will wear the mantle of “loser” forever.
Like any failed authoritarian regime, Trump followed Hemingway’s rule: collapse happened slowly, then suddenly. He and his gang were impervious to liability, punishment or justice until they were not. Now the desperation is delicious and spreads almost as fast as the virus around it. The dying jerks of the device built to support the whiny sociopath that stains the Oval Office, for now, have become increasingly apparent. The unenviable task of telling Maximum Chief that the game is over has fallen to his unfortunate son-in-law, who hardly looks like a war consigliere. He’s more of a hand-of-war model.
Anyone who worries Donald will pull a last-minute scam and take over the presidency in a final act of Trumpian ratfuckery, like Bill Barr’s 11th hour memo breaking Department of Justice rules to allow prosecutors to investigate supposed irregularities of voters, must take a deep breath. and, in the words of a wise friend, “Calm down.”
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