The charade of the Republican convention surpasses all known levels of hypocrisy and sleight of hand. After the two apostates Nicki Haley and Ron DeSantis got done with their reformation symphonies, and we were treated to shots of Trump’s face in stony relief displaying condescension of the most smarmy sort, we were treated to a parade of fealty unrivaled. The convention itself was to become the final gasp of democracy as we know it. The king is being coronated, and the vassals were pushing themselves out of the way to be seen in their preemptive idolatry and obeisance.

It was clear that no one there held any more belief in constitutional government. Except where it could be used to momentary effect. Four months to put up with the old system, mine it for anything its worth, keep the spotlight while Democrats flounder over Biden. Don’t get me started.

The Supreme Court had already neutered the separation of powers giving the president immunity from basically any prosecution for offenses to the Constitution. John Roberts gave up it seems to me long ago. The gang of five had sidelined him effectively and he had nowhere to go but come up with the flimsiest rationale of giving the president unlimited powers. It’s couched in legalese but the smoke from the burning hole in the Constitution was detected and now Dems are looking for their boots. Trump’s plan to install an endless supply of “yes” men and fire everyone else — well it’s clear enough. Who has time for a constitution? Times have changed. The Putins are winning.

After eviscerating the meaning of the Constitution regulating presidential powers, the Supreme Court thumbed its nose at anyone who would be so bold as to imagine that Trump, a convicted felon, serial liar and misogynist, should have any controls over his actions. Or anyone subsequent. Who needs constraints? The Steve Bannons of the world, as interviewed for The New York Times by milquetoast apologist David Brooks exposed just how misguided and corrupt are not only Trump, but the Project 2025 gang in the think tank of revolutionary imaginings.

Irrespective of dynamic chaos theory, the case when all the worst ideas congeal to produce the worst possible scenario, people imagine them to be the apotheosis of centennial efforts to produce the “promised land” of rewards for the true believers and of course their children. All the policies the Trump administration wants to stamp out are those that help the people who bow to him. Immigrants and people of color are not invited except as docile domestics. It’s a TV show not a hard look at the future. What people think they will get out of it all is a complete mystery. Coordinated effort from everyone who knows better is needed no matter how small or large. Every policy runs counter to any principle we’ve followed.

Not a happy ending folks. I know I sound cynical, but it’s the age. Everyone knows my true feelings. I believe in the highest order for all mankind. Period. Everyone is a brother or sister. The universe in all its glory never had some bearded guy saying man was less than free in his/her evolution. The only rule we would evolve to understand was that love brought prosperity, cooperation, compassion, vision beyond ourselves. So you see I’m not at all cynical, just observant. Do I think we’ll all survive? Probably, but it’s never been without struggle. All our differences are just opportunities to mostly learn about ourselves, who we are, what we value. We’re over evolved in one sense and under evolved in another. But last of all we have to go forward from where we’re at. There’s no magic bullets. We have to stand up to the crooks and the Bannons and the Trumps and the myopic thinking, and the senses of loss, of what cannot be reclaimed, is no longer within reach.

George and Mary, my surrogates living in liberal land are trying to wrap current events around their heads rather than the opposite. Mary opines, “Another case of sleeping through the fire alarm.”

“Quick! Get the hose! I forgot to replace the dead extinguishers! It’s our one stand in for the law after its been neutered, without which the goon squad will arrive to pour on more gas. We’ll be on their list. We’ve been too bold and said too much,” George said regretfully.

The Farquars along with everybody else doesn’t know what everything might mean. The effects of an unequal branch of government sound awful on paper, but how much and what is really affected? That’s the unknown. But Trump has told us. We’re all on his list. Like the Gilbert and Sullivan song: I’ve got a little list, I’ve got a little list, and they’ll none of them be missed, they’ll none of them be missed.

Shelburne Falls resident Alan Harris and wife Jane observe events from their perch in the maple tree. He sings, she sews and keep consciousness close at hand.