Is the ship sinking?

There is an article from The Guardian (“Trump’s Truth Social posts make no sense – what do they say about his mentality?”) that looks at Chairman Trump’s mental state through his social media. One of those “funny if it were not so frightening” things. I’ve long harbored pity for what it must feel like to be him, but it appears he might not have the mental clarity to see his own suffering. After all, his agony may be his driving force; it seems it’s all he knows. So, it must feel normal, even correct.

While I would never willingly kill anyone, I have actually wished Trump were dead. I think now that it would be better if he somehow just faded away. Maybe he could have a stroke or be found wandering the grounds of the White house naked and then be quietly institutionalized. Whoever took over couldn’t be any worse, but they could be worse at “it,” I guess. The hope would be that the chaos Trump’s shattered mind has sown would then infect the regime itself, disrupting if not paralyzing it.

I don’t fear Trump will be the next Putin or Xi, as he is clearly not as astute nor as coherent as either of them. Trump doesn’t see that he is trying to make a new government while governing from the crumbling remains of the old government. A government recycler. A one-man revolution. The task is way beyond any apparent capacity of the man, and it seems very unlikely that he has any grasp of the scope of such a thing. Trump and his band of sycophants are attempting to recycle the ship of state from the damaged pieces of the old craft while sailing the high seas, full steam ahead. Yet as can be seen from his Truth posts, his thinking is so disjointed and delusional, not to mention superficial, that we’re heading for a serious shipwreck.

I’m not without hope, but I’m expecting irreversible change. The damage has been done to the hull, however, and the ship of state is taking on water. Unless all efforts are made to save our ship, we’re going to go down. “All efforts” are not, I believe, any longer likely in the Divided State of America. There is not an “All” in our country anymore.

All things are mortal. Even the mountain crumble back toward the seas. Who are we to think that anything we make or do or are will last forever. Everything is subject to the laws of physics. The tension between order and entropy is everything: the overarching universal driving force. Change is constant; stasis is nonexistent. All of us — you, me, Trump, Jesus – are in constant change in every way from everyone and everything else. Who or what we are at any moment is defined but those changing relationships to everything else. We are all as motes in a massive dust storm.

In the kitchen sink, a molecule of detergent can reach out and grasp a molecule of water with one hand and a molecule of pork fat with another, and they can flow away together down to the drain to grey-water afterlife. If this linking doesn’t happen, the water molecule may evaporate, leaving the fat and detergent unbound to fend for themselves. These two, bound to one another, may just be left behind on the empty sink bottom – in housekeeping purgatory. No one goes to the Grey Haven that day. The bonding is order; the failure to bond or have a bond be broken is the effect of chaos. Yet time and change will go on for each of these molecules, other bonds will form and be broken, over and over, until the end of all things.

We worry mightily over one washing up. We experience those few “seconds” that could be any time in the sink, in the world in a migration, in our minds in an agreement called a country. We can’t choose the coming in nor usually our going out. Over time we have some opportunities to reach out our hand and bond with other people, things, places, activities. We have some control over these bonds, but that is still very little control in the greater scheme of things. Yes, there are those who can cast shockwaves that break bonds and also form others, and other nonhuman forces create shockwaves, but shock waves are not bonds. Shockwaves threaten bonds; so, if we value our bonds, we must hold tightly. Individuals who send out chaotic shockwaves may be, and I believe often are, lightly bonded, even unbonded — isolated in their own universe and frequently, if unknowingly, very lonely.

Holding out hope may be donning a robe of futility. Engaging in the orderly holding tightly to what we have will resist change, but change will still happen. Otherwise, the only way to resist change is with active resistance – sending out one’s own shockwaves. That, of course, may precipitate retaliatory shockwaves aimed at breaking your hold on what and whom you hold on to. Aligning with many others to create a more shocking impact may be strategic. Yet, this may get an enlarged blowback and a greater challenge to many more close bonds. For every thinking individual, there must be a reckoning of what is at stake and what there is to gain. There will be change and it may be challenging. Bonds may well be broken. Of course, in time, all things will be wiped away. In the meantime, how to respond is always based in speculation. “Time will heal all wounds.” “When good people do nothing, bad things happen.” “It can’t happen here.” “People only change when it hurts.”

Is the ship sinking? Have you counted the lifeboats?