Last night I spent good time with good company, all of like minds politically and socially. In that good company is a very good friend of substantial means. At one point he asked me if I was going to watch the debate tonight, or as he characterized it, “the TV event that might decide the future of the world”. I responded that I would indeed be watching and felt his characterization, though extreme, was sadly too damn accurate.
He later said that his financial advisor had called a Zoom meeting of all of his clients for Friday morning to discuss paths forward after the debate and anticipating a SCOTUS decision on Trump’s specious immunity claims. He said his financial guy sounded a bit panicked.
No shit.
Personally I’ve moved beyond panic. I’m now in a state of profound disillusionment. A descriptor I borrowed from Tom Wellborn a fellow traveler on social media. I wrote about that last week on Medium in a post called, well you guessed it, Profound Disillusionment.
I hope you take a few minutes and read it, depressing as it may sound. We live in a country where I fear that if the decaying orange convicted felon, now the candidate for what used to one of two major political parties in this country, but is now just an cover for grifting and cruelty, died a horrible public death, the chaos he’s unleashed can’t be reversed. At least not in my lifetime.
In the light of day last night’s good time feels far too much like commiseration.
You can find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.
Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3 
We’ve left “may you live in interesting times” far behind. I keep looking for reasons to hope for the better, but it’s frighteningly difficult.
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