I go back and forth about whether there is such a thing as fate. This is one of those weeks where I believe.
The shooting of the Republican congressional baseball team in Alexandria is terrible enough, and predictably, the right wing scream machine is in full blather blaming the Democrats and their anti-Trump rhetoric for setting a nasty tone. Of course, the conservative media treated Obama with kid gloves and honey for eight years and were really only kidding about his being a Muslim or not a citizen or being in league with his Arab buddies whenever oil prices shot higher. Or plunged lower.
Same reason, different day.
What was arguably worse than Alexandria was the Greek Chorus made up of cabinet members expressing their undying love and personal fortunes for the honor of serving the least qualified president we’ve ever had in the White House. This display undermined every philosophical and practical underpinning of our democracy. These people don’t work personally for the president; they work for the American people. You know, the ones who pay their salaries and upon whose behalf they serve. Remember serve? This is a government based on service. By turning their fealty over to one man, they have greased the slippery slope that the president (shudder) sits atop.
But wait, there’s more.
The Fickle Finger of Fate also pointed north of DC, aiming its digit squarely at Central Park, where the Public Theater is presenting “Julius Caesar” with a Caesar who looks remarkably like the president. Of course, this has caused controversy when Caesar is sliced and diced at the play’s ides, and has led Delta Airlines – you know, the airline that kicks families off of flights, and Bank of America, you know, the bank that never learned from a financial crisis – to cancel their support for the theater. Reason enough to abandon Delta and BOA.
As any high schooler can tell you, though, the killing of Caesar doesn’t solve Rome’s problems and leads to wars starring Mark Antony, Cassius and Brutus. The killing is the essence of the tragedy for all involved, but the Republican scream machine sees it as a death wish for Democrats and a scurrilous depiction of gratuitous violence.
Wrong.
It’s art, and art sometimes has to challenge and outrage us because it shows us a side of humanity that we don’t think about. Or want to see. Or recognize in us, but is too painful to say out loud. Worse is that Trump’s budget cuts spending on the arts and humanities so we can all get dumber and singularly praise him for being more effective than anyone except FDR.
But these are the lies that Trump thinks he can continue to tell and get away with. Praise he believes he’s earned for…700 jobs in Indiana? A health care plan he said was both “great” and “mean?” And now, an investigation into whether he obstructed justice.
As usual, though, it’s the Bard who gives us the fitting end, the speech that Caesar gives extolling his own virtue as the only one who can save Rome:
I could be well moved, if I were as you.
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me.
But I am constant as the Northern Star,
Of whose true fixed and resting quality
There is no fellow in the firmament.
The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks;
They are all fire and every one doth shine.
But there’s but one in all doth hold his place.
So in the world: ’tis furnished well with men,
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive.
Yet in the number I do know but one
That unassailable holds on his rank,
Unshaked of motion; and that I am he
Let me a little show it, even in this:
That I was constant Cimber should be banished,
And constant do remain to keep him so. (3.1.64-79)
He is murdered soon after.
Exeunt.
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