What happened?
Duhhh…I was terrified, of course. Easy to see it now, and easy to acknowledge it at the time, but very difficult when you are actually in the midst of the terror.
Here are the facts as I dimly remember them from the last two weeks.
Almost certainly, it started with my visiting a friend in the program that I’m not in. The friend is a lawyer, his specialty is family law, this was a formal visit.
I’m getting divorced at 69—not on my bingo card.
Holy Week—which is big / not big in Puerto Rico. The words of Miss Jean Brodie—undoubtedly uttered through pursed lips—apply: “For those who like that sort of thing, THAT is the sort of thing they like….” So yes, the Catholics do their best here, though it’s small beer compared to the Philippines or Málaga. They get out the papier mache or Styrofoam cross, dig out the scourges they bought from Condom World all those years ago, and fashion a new crown with all the thorns pointing out (and their tips capped). They walk down the street. The rest of us go to the beach.
Except for me, of course, since if there’s a negative emotion around, I have to feel it. So I absorb the misery of those around me, and enjoy the company. But it is a hard week.
Made no easier by the news, on Easter Sunday, that the President of the United States…oh, let’s just show it.
That’s actually appropriate—sort of—if you don’t mind a blurring / erasure of the line between church and state. But the other (Trump being famously liberal in his posting) post is the one that got everyone’s attention.
This was followed, very predictably, by this on Tuesday:
Today, I’m marveling at the distance that Trump has created for himself. He announces the destruction of a civilization, denies any role in that destruction, expresses insincere sorrow that the world’s oldest civilization is going to be annihilated, puts the blame squarely on the shoulders of the Iranians, and then blesses them!
This post appeared on Tuesday at 8:06 AM. I read it several hours later and then sat on a park bench, smoking a cigar.
Trump had gone on to say that 8 PM eastern time would be the hour. If a deal had not been secured, all bets were off, and destruction assured.
The Iranians had submitted a 10-point plan that looked very naturally towards Iranian interests. They wanted….oh, here it is again.
In fact, Trump announced jubilantly in a post that a two-week “truce” had been secured, that everybody was on board with the peace plan, but that the remaining “details” were yet to be worked out.
He caved, and in the worst possible way. There’s no disguising this—he chickened out (THANK GOD) and the world is safe.
This time….
For the moment…
Until the next time that the rat—errrr, president—is backed into a corner.
The president is completely bonkers. His lies were never convincing to anyone with half a brain—now, even a moron can see through them. His impulse control is shot. He clearly has no plan for ANYTHING—not the tariffs, not the immigration policy, not foreign policy. His emotions are wildly out of control.
The enduring question is, “what happened?” The “truce” was declared a couple of hours before the 8 PM deadline. I, by this time, had decided to pass the time waiting for the end of the world by binding a book, rather than drinking (which I chose not to do, out of deference to those people in those meetings that they, at least, go to). By the time the book was bound, the news was creeping out that the US top command of the Armed Services may have—they were very cagey in describing this, and they should have been—not refused Trump’s orders, but rather adduced the various complications (military / political / legal / moral) that might ensue if the admittedly bold plans of the dear leader were carried out.
Did the last line of defense in our little democracy hold?
It was reassuring to be lied to in such a soothing way. Some four-star general got on CNN and assured the world that there was a sane mind left in Washington, and that the situation was normal. In fact, their commander-in-chief is bat-shit crazy, and the books that are going to be written about this fuck-up in American history is going to make the post-Nazi avalanche of memoirs / documentaries / books / movies / etc. look like a snow flurry on an otherwise crisp November day.
The president had his finger on the nuclear red button we all imagine is on the Resolute Desk, but then the aide came in with his diet-Coke, and he forgot all about it.
No worries, see?
To recap:
1. Visit to lawyer to end my marriage
2. 2. Awaiting end of world
3. 3. See below
Nobody in MAGA saw this as a Jesus-like figure. Nobody accepted the notion that Trump had posted it (and he admitted he had) thinking he was being portrayed as just a doctor, not the pathway to eternal salvation. Nobody was outraged by the attack on Pope Leo—God knows, I called His Holiness a whore a score of blog posts back, but Trump really went after him. He called him “weak on crime,” which seemed an odd thing to say. Does the pope also have an economic development plan, a scheme to fix our broken healthcare system, and a revision of the penal code?
True—the Catholics, who had favored Trump 60 / 40 over Harris in the 2024 election, now put him at a 48% approval rating.
The cumulative effect is staggering. Not, of course, that it would affect many people, because people have tuned out the news. Worse, they have turned people who care deeply about the news into moral lepers, who insist on squandering their time in the filth and decay of current events when they could be looking higher!
Their thoughts could be elevated!
Their minds purified…
Their souls complete!
But no, there was little Marc, sitting on a park bench smoking a cigar because why not? Trump might have blown Iran up, but every other Islamic country would have bombed our military bases in the region the next day. Terrorist attacks on American interests in London and Paris were inevitable, and here in the United States as well.
Americans are not seeing this as the Iranians are seeing this: they know that they are in a Holy War. The crusades that are open wounds to this day in Iran and are just paragraphs in a History textbook for us—well, the term “Great Satan” to describe the US is not metaphorical. It is real, it is evil, and it is upon them.
Of course, this is a Holy War for the evangelical Christians, who have been waiting for this for the last two thousand years, this moment when the struggle between good (us) and evil (them) will at last celebrate its glorious victory on the world stage. The curtain will come crashing down.
The rest of us are worrying about the price of gasoline.
The monumental disconnect is jarring.
I was terrified.
And I still am
