On this feast day of Robert Burns, less than a week into the second Trump administration, things are not well. ICE is going nuts, the CDC failed to issue its “Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report” for the first time since 1960 (MMWR is where the medical community first was alerted to what came to be known as AIDS), hundreds of seditionists and insurrectionists were pardoned or had their sentences commuted, Trump seems bent on taking FEMA – an agency whose mission to is to care for neighbors in need – and turn it into a quid-pro-quo program where friends are helped and others left to cry alone, and now the dismissal of 17 inspectors general.

And that’s just for starters.

On this feast day of Robert Burns, one need not wonder what Burns would have to say about Mar-a-Lago and its Lord. In his poem “My Father was a Farmer,” he lays out his own set of values,

My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,

And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;

He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O;

For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.

Hmmm . . . one’s worth is not based on the size of your purse? “Unpossible!” says the Lord of Mar-a-Lago.

Later in the poem, after describing how his efforts to improve his financial situation were less than successful, and unmoved by his lack of money or what society says his values should be, he says this about himself:

But cheerful still, I am as well as a monarch in his palace, O,

Tho’ Fortune’s frown still hunts me down, with all her wonted malice, O:

I make indeed my daily bread, but ne’er can make it farther, O:

But as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.

“Unpossible!” says the Lord of Mar-a-Lago. “How can you possibly be cheerful without money?”

The final stanza makes the contrast between Burns and the Trump-like Lords of his day abundantly clear:

All you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardour, O,

The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the farther, O:

Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adore you, O,

A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you, O.

What is delightful about this poem is that Burns wasn’t speaking metaphorically, but autobiographically. Burns was a working farmer-poet, never wealthy himself, and oft in need of additional income. Writing poetry definitely helped, as various parts of Edinburgh’s High Society oooh-ed and ahhh-ed over his writing and were willing to pay for it.

But even so, Burns had no problem taking aim at their pretentiousness. His famous “Address to a Haggis” (recited far and wide at Burns celebrations each year on this day) is as much a take down and those who adore over-wrought fancy cooking as it is praise of a peasant dish. Burns writes about this sheep’s stomach filled with sheep’s lung, heart, and liver, along with oats, onions, and all manner of spices and herbs, as if it were the finest French cuisine, only to slam those who prefer “fine dining” over hearty fare like the haggis. Haggis, like honest working folks, has substance and nourishment; those who love their fine cuisine he calls devils, as their meal is an inappropriately thin plate of unhealthy trash.

My family roots are German, not Scottish, but “Address to a Haggis” resonates strongly with me. My late grandmother was a delightful baker with a heart of hospitality and always ready to put together a quick coffee cake if guests dropped by. As a daughter of the depression, she had a myriad of ways to stretch her ingredients and her budget. One of the favorite dishes she made that I only ever had at her home was a beef stew using beef heart and tongue, rather than more common cuts of beef. She could get the heart and tongue for next to nothing (or simply for nothing, as cattle-ranching parishioners who knew how badly her pastor-husband was paid would save these for her as an extra gift), and she turned them into a thing of beauty. Alas, she is gone and the recipe with her, though I can still smell it in my mind and taste it in my soul.

On this feast of Robert Burns, in these troubling times when all seems adrift, Burns’ injunction to prefer “a cheerful honest-hearted clown” to folks like the Lord of Mar-a-Lago seems all the more necessary. I invite you to fill your glass with a beverage of your choice, because it’s time to ding.

The roots of dinging at our home go back more than two decades . . .

*DING*

Please offer your own toasts, your own odes to the foods of your hearts, and your own perspectives on the values of Lord of Mar-a-Lago and his ilk in the comments.

It was amusing to me to hear Trump’s reaction to the service at the National Cathedral on January 21st. I’ve been a pastor for a long time, and heard many opinions offered about the quality (or lack thereof) of the services I’ve designed and led and the sermons I’ve given. To me, Trump’s reaction says a lot more about him than it does about Episcopal Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde.

To start things off, here’s the printed program [pdf] prepared for those who attended the service. (You can watch the video of the service on the Cathedral’s YouTube channel here.) Notice the title on the front cover: “A Service of Prayer for the Nation.” Notice what isn’t on the front cover? Two words: Donald Trump. The message is clear, right from the start – this isn’t a celebration of Trump, like the inaugural balls or the rally at the Capital One arena. This is a service for the nation.

Not for “the citizens of” the nation.
Not for “the taxpayers of” the nation.
Not for “the leaders of” the nation.
This was a service for the nation – the *whole* nation.

Trump can attend, but it’s not about him or for him. It’s a service for the nation.

It’s also a service of prayer, and as I browse through the program, I can’t help but see the *whole* nation raised up again and again and again.

The pre-service music is an eclectic mix. The carillon selections are largely American composers, pairing old composers with 20th and 21st century arrangers. Two of the compositions are by anonymous composers, whose names have been lost to history while their music has not. The four organ selections are by two Lutherans (Bach and Buxtehude) and two Jews (Fanny Mendelssohn and her younger brother Felix). Bach and the Mendelssohns were German, and Buxtehude’s roots are more complicated because of the changing borders of Denmark, Sweden, and northern Germany at the time he was born. The brass selections come from three great composers from three nations: John Rutter (England), Anton Dvorak (the Czech Republic), and Aaron Copland (one of the greatest American composers). The pre-service music concluded with five choral pieces, each of which has deep roots in American religious life. These selections set the tone: this is a service for all the nation, with a mix of instruments, a mix of composers, and music with a mix of ethnic and religious roots that befit the mixed and diverse roots of the nation.

The Entrance Rite began with words from Jesus in Mark 17: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.” Note those last two words: all people. Not a few, not some, not many, but *all* people. After a blessing from the traditions of the First Americans, the indigenous people who were here long before the Mayflower and Jamestown; long before Cortez, Pizarro, Balboa, and Ponce de Leon; long before Columbus and long before the Norse; the opening hymn by Fred Kaan was sung by all who are present in this moment, beginning like this:

For the healing of the nations, God, we pray with one accord;
for a just and equal sharing of the things that earth affords;
to a life of love in action help us rise and pledge our word.

I can imagine that a beginning like this put Trump in a pickle. “It’s all woke crap” he must have been thinking. “When will we get to the acclamation of my win in the election? When will we get to their acknowledgment of my power, my success, my victory? When are we going to get to the praise of me?” Spoiler alert: Never, never, and never. Because this service was never going to be about Trump, and I’m sure that never even dawned on him as he arrived at the National Cathedral.

But back to the hymn.

Lead us forward into freedom; from despair your world release,
that, redeemed from war and hatred, all may come and go in peace.
Show us how through care and goodness fear will die and hope increase.

In the context of Trump’s campaign, and the even closer context of Trump’s post-election announcements of his plans for the first hours and days of his administration, these words are a respectful yet powerful rebuke. Kaan is quite clear: the vision of the God to whom this prayer is addressed is One who prizes justice, equality, love, freedom, peace, care of others, goodness, and finally hope. This God is likewise dedicated to the end of slavery, despair, war, hatred, and most of all, fear. That last list is Trump’s go-to list, and Kaan named and condemned it out loud, in no uncertain terms, in four part harmony.

But Kaan was not done.

All that kills abundant living, let it from the earth be banned;
pride of status, race, or schooling, dogmas that obscure your plan.
In our common quest for justice may we hallow life’s brief span.

I knew Fred Kaan, whose early life was shaped by his family’s work in the Dutch resistance to the Nazis during World War II. He knew, firsthand, the ugliness of life under leaders who prize race and status, who punish and kill those who are Not Like Us. That first word – All! – leaps out with power, this time aimed at each and every power that divides, diminishes, and kills the abundant life God intends for all people.  These are words of resistance, written by one who (along with his family) lived a life of resistance during WWII. These are words offering hope to those unwilling to sell their souls to MAGA and Trump, and sending a shiver through Trump and JD Vance if they were paying attention.

And Kaan is still not done, as he ties up this hymn with one last broadside against the MAGA Un-Gospel:

You, Creator God, have written your great name on humankind;
for our growing in your likeness bring the life of Christ to mind
that by our response and service earth its destiny may find.

Those who pray this prayer — who sing this song — are not praying to shut refugees seeking safety out of the country. They are not praying to round up those who lack the right paperwork to live here, put them in detention camps, and shove them elsewhere. They are not praying to celebrate the exceptionalness of one race or nation or person above the rest of humanity. They are not praying to sit back in comfortable wealth and luxury, leaving it to the poor and needy to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.

In one short hymn, the entire inaugural address that Trump gave the day before was ripped apart, using the voices that come from the throats of everyone sitting around him. His entire campaign message was challenged and opposed, by every voice that rang to the vaulted ceiling and was broadcast out to the world. Kaan died in 2009, but this hymn sounds as if it could have been written last week. And Trump had to sit there and take it, with all the cameras rolling.

Worst of all for Trump, this was but the beginning of the service.

I’m not going to go through the rest of the service in this kind of detail – you can do that for yourself. There were prayers offered by folks from all kinds of religious traditions – Christians of various denominations, as well as Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Sikh leaders. These prayers were filled with words like “all” and “every” to paint a picture of our common life together. In the “prayers for all who govern,” the first petition was not for President Trump, but for “all the peoples of the earth,” and moved more narrowly to “the people of our nation” meaning all the people. In the “prayers for those who serve,” the petitions were offered for those in the armed forces and the diplomatic corps, for all civil servants that “they serve with integrity and compassion, without prejudice or partiality to better their communities and the nation,” for all teachers and educators, for all first responders, and critically at the end, “all the people of our land.” In the “prayers for the peoples of this nation,” Methodist Bishop LaTrelle Easterling opened them like this: “O God, whom we cannot love unless we love our neighbor, let us pray for the most vulnerable in our community and lead us to be present with them in their suffering.” This was followed by petitions of specific and vivid mention of those who are most vulnerable.

All this is what led up to the sermon by the Right Reverend Mariann Edgar Budde that garnered such attention in the media and such opprobrium from Trump. He tried to personalize it, demanding an apology from her, but far from her being some isolated voice standing up to him, or some he said/she said debate, Budde was speaking out of the deep religious traditions of a very diverse nation:

In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country.

We’re scared now. The people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings, who labor in poultry farms and meatpacking plants, who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shifts in hospitals.

They may not be citizens or have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes, and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurdwara, and temples.

I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away, and that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here.

This now-famous plea directed specifically to President Trump, offered in a quiet and measured words, was not a one-off. In that plea, she summed up and made plain the implications of Kaan’s opening hymn, the words of the prayers offered throughout the whole service, and everything that took place in the 90 minutes before she took her place in the pulpit and began to speak. If Trump was waiting for the service to finally turn to him, this plea is when it happened — and it pissed him off.

What Budde did, in all humility and in all power, was to name Trump for what he is: one of us, with specific powers and abilities to directly shape life for all the people of the country, and indirectly for the world. Note, though, that what she pleaded for from Trump was of a piece with all the music and prayers, calling on every one of us to use our own far smaller powers and abilities to shape life for all the people in our orbit for the better, as small as our powers may be compared with the powers wielded by Trump.

That, perhaps, is what most put Trump out of joint. She was saying to him “Your title may be fancier, your staff may be grander, cameras may follow your every movement, and microphones strain to catch your every word, but in the end, you share the same task as the lowliest person who cleans hotel rooms, who labors to pick crops and build homes and process poultry while undocumented. You are One of Us, no more special and no less special, no matter how much you long for it to be otherwise.”

I’ve preached to congregations that have included mayors and city officials. I’ve preached to state legislators, state executive branch officials, and state supreme court justices. I’ve preached in services attended by a presidential candidate (Illinois Senator Paul Simon). One thing that has sustained me in those settings, and given me the strength to say what needs to be said, is the strong sense of being surrounded by the voices of the ancestors, preaching this same good news to them that I preach to the lowliest and most marginalized- that all that God has made is good, and all deserve support and care and love from each other.

Several years ago, on the eve of the first anniversary of January 6th, I compared Trump with King Herod who tried to use the wise men so he could kill the infant born to be the Messiah, and I used not simply the account from the Gospel of Matthew but also the retelling of the story by James Taylor in his song “Home By Another Way. Here, in part, is what I wrote that day:

But Taylor isn’t singing just to retell the story of what happened back then. He’s preaching, in his own way, drawing his listeners into the song and changing us here today:

Well it pleasures me to be here
And to sing this song tonight
They tell me that life is a miracle
And I figure that they’re right
But Herod’s always out there
He’s got our cards on file
It’s a lead pipe cinch
If we give an inch
That Herod likes to take a mile

It’s best to go home by another way
Home by another way
We got this far to a lucky star
But tomorrow is another day
We can make it another way
“Safe home!” as they used to say
Keep a weather eye to the chart up high
And go home another way

Yes, Herod *is* always out there, looking to game the system and rape the system and break the system if that’s what it takes to keep himself in power.

But there is also always another way, a way that leaves Herod and his successors powerless and impotent.

My description of Herod’s/Trump’s way came back to mind with a crash on the 20th, as word of all those initial executive orders came tumbling out. Saying Trump is “looking to game the system and rape the system and break the system if that’s what it takes” back then seems frighteningly prescient today.

But like the wise men of old, Bishop Budde knows another way, as do all those who planned this most powerful service, and as did Fred Kaan. In JT’s words, in the face of Trump’s blizzard of executive orders which are designed to take and take and take some more from the most vulnerable among us, Budde didn’t give an inch. Instead, she stood in the path of our American Herod along with a host of others, naming that other way home.

And here’s the really really good news, that would scare Trump even more if he were to think about it: you don’t have to be a bishop to name Herod for who he is, to call out his ways of fear and death, and to lift up our neighbors. That’s what the wise men did, in going home by another way. They protected a poor, vulnerable refugee-to-be from a vengeful tyrant who feared for his own power. And that’s what each of us can do, wherever we are: name Trump’s way as the path of division, destruction, and death, and point to another way.

Because JT was right: it’s best to go home by another way.

There are some real doozies among the executive orders that were signed yesterday. As Marcy noted, the pardons were certainly among them. There is also the irony of opening up ANWR for drilling once more and exploiting Alaska’s environmental resources, while at the same time stopping the offshore continental shelf leases to wind farms,

with due consideration for a variety of relevant factors, including the need to foster an energy economy capable of meeting the country’s growing demand for reliable energy, the importance of marine life, impacts on ocean currents and wind patterns, effects on energy costs for Americans –- especially those who can least afford it –- and to ensure that the United States is able to maintain a robust fishing industry for future generations and provide low cost energy to its citizens.

I guess Alaskan fish and the Arctic Ocean are on their own.

There is also an EO giving now-Secretary of State his marching orders:

Section 1.  Purpose.  From this day forward, the foreign policy of the United States shall champion core American interests and always put America and American citizens first.

Sec. 2.  Policy.  As soon as practicable, the Secretary of State shall issue guidance bringing the Department of State’s policies, programs, personnel, and operations in line with an America First foreign policy, which puts America and its interests first.

“And don’t you forget it, Little Marco!” was apparently deleted from the final version that was signed.

It’s not just Americans watching all this play out on Day One. Around the world, the heads of intelligence services of friends and foes alike were no doubt watching as well, to see what was just campaign rhetoric and what Trump actually followed through on with action. The EO that really made me sit up and take notice and most certainly caught their attention was this one:

The Executive Office of the President requires qualified and trusted personnel to execute its mandate on behalf of the American people.  There is a backlog created by the Biden Administration in the processing of security clearances of individuals hired to work in the Executive Office of the President.  Because of this backlog and the bureaucratic process and broken security clearance process, individuals who have not timely received the appropriate clearances are ineligible for access to the White House complex, infrastructure, and technology and are therefore unable to perform the duties for which they were hired.  This is unacceptable.

Therefore, by the authority vested in me as President by the Constitution and the laws of the United States of America, I hereby order:

1.  The White House Counsel to provide the White House Security Office and Acting Chief Security Officer with a list of personnel that are hereby immediately granted interim Top Secret/Sensitive Compartmented Information (TS/SCI) security clearances for a period not to exceed six months; and

2.  That these individuals shall be immediately granted access to the facilities and technology necessary to perform the duties of the office to which they have been hired; and

3.  The White House Counsel, as my designee, may supplement this list as necessary; and

4.  The White House Counsel, as my designee, shall have the authority to revoke the interim clearance of any individual as necessary.

The introduction blaming the Biden administration for screwing up the process for getting security clearances is a red herring. This EO is straight up slamming the FBI for not immediately giving clearances to his favored people back in 2017. But beyond that . . . wow.

Do you remember how things began for Trump in 2017? As I wrote in 2022, when the FBI executed a search warrant on Mar-a-Lago seeking (and finding) missing very sensitive national security documents, Trump had a history of shoddy security practices dating back to the very beginning of his first administration.

On May 15, 2017, a disturbing story hit the news:

President Donald Trump disclosed highly classified information to Russia’s foreign minister about a planned Islamic State operation, two U.S. officials said on Monday, plunging the White House into another controversy just months into Trump’s short tenure in office.

The intelligence . . . was supplied by a U.S. ally in the fight against the militant group, both officials with knowledge of the situation said.

H.R. McMaster categorically denied it, and as the story unfolded over time, McMaster was lying through his teeth. The unnamed ally was later revealed to be Israel, who had a mole inside an ISIS cell. And Trump blithely blew the cover of that Israeli asset by bragging to Lavrov.

Shortly after this meeting (at which Trump also bragged about just having fired James Comey), US intelligence officials made a bold move. From CNN:

In a previously undisclosed secret mission in 2017, the United States successfully extracted from Russia one of its highest-level covert sources inside the Russian government, multiple Trump administration officials with direct knowledge told CNN.

A person directly involved in the discussions said that the removal of the Russian was driven, in part, by concerns that President Donald Trump and his administration repeatedly mishandled classified intelligence and could contribute to exposing the covert source as a spy.

The decision to carry out the extraction occurred soon after a May 2017 meeting in the Oval Office in which Trump discussed highly classified intelligence with Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov and then-Russian Ambassador to the US Sergey Kislyak. The intelligence, concerning ISIS in Syria, had been provided by Israel.

This was the opening act of the Trump presidency. From the very beginning, intelligence officers worried about how Trump handled classified information. Our intelligence officers worried, and so did the intelligence officers of our allies, as they asked themselves some version of the question “Will Trump say something or do something that will get us killed?” In a completely different way, so did the intelligence officers of our adversaries. If Trump were to rashly reveal something he learned about the capabilities of our adversaries, it could have disastrous consequences for those countries and their leaders, as the reaction to the revelation could easily spiral out of control in unforeseeable ways.

And the damage was done.

Fast forward to today, and imagine you are the head of the German Bundesnachrichendienst, the Australian Secret Intelligence Service, the Israeli Mossad, or any of the intelligence agencies with whom we regularly share intelligence. This EO says that Trump is giving a six-month waiver to the background check requirement. What could possibly go wrong?

Now imagine you are the head of the intelligence service of an unfriendly country. How large is your smile?

Just as they watched Biden’s new team in 2021, all the foreign intelligence services are watching Trump today. Yes, they are taking note of Trump indicating the US is withdrawing from the Paris Climate Agreement, and also the World Health Organization. But screwing with security clearances in the White House is on another level.

Little Secretary of State Marco is going to have a lot of work to do, trying to clean up this mess. This kind of thing will turn “America First” into “America Alone,” at least when it comes to sharing intelligence among allies.

And finally, imagine you are a senior person in the CIA, NSA, or another US intelligence agency. Imagine you are an agent in the field, passing sensitive information through your handler back to Langley. How many agents are going to ask to be pulled out? How many agents are going to “go dark” for a time, cutting off the flow of information they had been sending? And how many potential sources are going to rethink any idea of cooperating with US intelligence services, and decide to go to the Germans, the British, or others instead of the US — or decide it’s not worth cooperating with any western country?

The whole world is watching, and it’s not a pretty picture. Unless, of course, you are a certain former KBG agent, who is even more elated today than he was on November 9th.

First it was Pete Hegseth who said it, followed 24 hours later by Pam Bondi. In the days ahead, I am sure we will hear the same from Tusli Gabbard, Robert Kennedy Jr., Marco Rubio, Kash Patel . . . et cetera, et cetera. et f-ing cetera: “Senator, I am not going to talk about a hypothetical.” Implied in the body language and tone of voice is the unstated addition “. . . and how dare you ask me about mythical future possibilities, rather than focus on the here and now.” Though to be fair, sometimes, as with Bondi’s exchange with Adam Schiff, that “how dare you” is spoken out loud.

But here’s the thing: the job description of every member of the Cabinet, and every senior leader of a federal agency, is centered on hypotheticals.

The Department of Defense is certainly focused on hypotheticals. The senior leadership — the Secretary of Defense, the Joint Chiefs, the various regional commanders, and a host of others — spend a huge amount of energy imagining hypothetical situations, and then planning on how to address those situations. “What would we do, if Iran successfully lobs a bomb at Israel?” or “How would we react to China sending a fleet up and down the coast of New Zealand, at the same time that they run ‘war games’ around Taiwan?” or “How would we respond to a North Korean missile that appears headed to strike Japan?” Senior DOD folks fear one thing above all: something happens that they never even imagined would happen.

The State Department and the Intelligence agencies operate with much the same fear. Every one of them dwells on hypotheticals every day, both reactive (“What do we do if they do X?”) and also proactive (“How might we game out a path to Z, knowing how others would react to our actions?”) None of these national security leaders want to have to face the question “How could you have missed this?” Lower level staffers put together voluminous briefing books for senior leaders, trying to prepare them for all the hypothetical situations they might encounter on a foreign trip, or when meeting with a foreign counterpart here in the US.

Lawyers — like the Attorney General — play with hypotheticals all the time as they plot out investigative paths, map the steps toward indictments, and game out strategy for trials. “If they say X, how do we respond? . . . If we want a judge to grant us a search warrant, what do we need to show, without fully tipping our hand for all the world to see? . . . If we want the jury to agree with us, how to we move them in that direction?” The legal cliche “Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to” is the logical advice that emerges in a profession that thrives on hypotheticals.

If Pete Hegseth and Pam Bondi hate talking about hypotheticals, they are angling for the wrong jobs. The jobs for which they are nominated require that they embrace hypotheticals, not reject them.

But it’s not just these national security positions. Look at a department as benign as the Department of Transportation. How many times has Pete Buttigieg’s day been turned upside down by a bridge collapse, a railroad derailment, or a computer glitch that screws up the aviation industry? The Department of Transportation has all kinds of folks who spend their days imagining hypotheticals and preparing for how to react if they come to be, or (even better) how to prevent them from taking place in the first place. If you can’t imagine something happening, you can’t imagine how to prevent it or react to it.

Or think of the Department of Agriculture. What would the Department do, if a hot dry summer kills off crops across the Great Plains? What if a hard freeze hits the entire southeast, killing off the citrus industry? What would the Department do, if an epidemic of bird flu hits chicken producers and processors, and then appears in the dairy industry?

Oh, wait. That last one isn’t a hypothetical.

Then, of course, there are agencies like the CDC, NIH, and FDA. Their whole reason for being, at the top of a public health system that goes down to local health departments, is to get ahead of diseases. Two questions drive every bit of their work: (1) How can we slow and stop a disease from spreading? and (2) How can we prevent an outbreak from starting in the first place? Both of those questions require imagining hypotheticals, so that hypothetical strategies can be developed. When folks in the early 20th century asked “Are there actions that can be taken to reduce the spread of disease?” they realized that things like public sanitation matter. Get clean water into every home. Keep trash from piling up in the streets, and thus keep rats and other disease-spreaders at bay. At the same time, researchers looked at strategies aimed at individuals, like improved nutrition, vaccines, and therapies of all kinds. Good research scientists ask “what if . . . ” every day of their professional lives, and those who support and guide these scientists do the same.

The more these Trump nominees express their refusal to examine hypotheticals, the more some Senator needs to point out that the jobs they are selling their souls for are filled with these things they hate.

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

When Donald Trump was reelected as president, that certainly qualified as being given a truckload lemons in my book. But the lemonade making? I just got a surprising vision of what that looks like.

On the southeast edge of the metro Kansas City area is the town of Belton, located in Cass County. Not all that long ago, it was an isolated rural farm town, well away from the Big City. Today, though, it has become somewhat of a bedroom community, still heavily rural but now with the addition of folks who want a more affordable place to live while commuting to their jobs elsewhere in the Kansas City area. Even with this shift toward being a bedroom community, in the 2024 presidential election, Trump carried Cass County 65%-33%. Belton is not some blue pocket in red Missouri – it is strongly red.

The current state representative for Belton is Republican Michael Davis, who has a degree in education from Harris-Stowe University in St. Louis (a white guy at an HBCU!?!) and a JD from Washburn University in Topeka where he served as president of the local chapter of the Federalist Society. He was the youngest member of the Missouri legislature when he was first elected, he has voted to defund Planned Parenthood and to cut taxes, and he sits on the House Judiciary Committee. All in all, he is the model of a Young Republican.

Except.

In advance of next year’s legislative session, lots of legislators pre-file bills with the clerk, and one of the bills filed by Davis has caught a lot of attention. The purpose of the bill is quite simple, and the text itself is a mere two pages. The bill would repeal Missouri’s prohibition on convicted felons running for public office.

Having a Republican sponsoring a bill like this is more than a little odd, given the “lock ’em up and throw away the key!” mentality of many in the GOP, especially in Missouri. But Belton, like many rural areas in Missouri, has a non-trivial portion of the population with minor drug convictions, or who have friends and family members with such convictions. While I can’t imagine that there are a huge number of these folks who want to run for office, a bill like this says to these people “If you’ve served your time, we want to welcome you back into society.” So good on Davis, even if that runs counter to the usual GOP message.

But the weird part of the story isn’t a Republican trying to help felons reenter society. The weird part is how he is trying to make the case for the bill, which he has titled the Donald J. Trump Election Qualification Act.

Says Davis in an interview with the Missouri Independent:

“Having conversations now, when I bring up the topic, a lot of them are squeamish about the idea of having felons in office, but then, if they’re Republican, I remind them that they probably voted for one,” Davis said. . . .

[snip]

“A lot of people don’t don’t think about the fact that Donald Trump, if he met all the other requirements, if he was a Missouri resident, he could not run for state representative or state Senate,” Davis said. “He would be precluded from running for these offices, but was able to be re-elected president of the United States. So I think that at least causes people to start thinking about the issue a little more than they might otherwise.”

Remember: this is a Republican member of the state legislator saying these things, not some liberal from Kansas City or St. Louis.

I know a bunch of folks, mostly in St. Louis and Kansas City, who have worked for years to shift the state of Missouri to focus on the reentry of felons into society rather than solely focus on locking them up to keep them out of society. I am confident in saying that *none* of these folks voted for Trump. But if Davis wants to hold up Trump as a reason to embrace a shift in the judicial system that worries not only about locking folks up but also about how to help folks reenter the world after time in prison, these folks will say more power to him. Passing this bill wouldn’t do anything to mitigate the mess that is about to be unleashed in DC, but it would change the lives of hundreds of families in Missouri for the better.

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” never sounded so appropriate.

The comments on Marcy’s post yesterday telling folks to go stare at the ocean to get their heads in a better place, instead of becoming paralyzed and stuck in the face of last weeks election, make it clear that she struck a nerve with how folks are feeling 10 days after the election. I’ve had a bunch of face-to-face conversations with friends and parishioners on both sides of the Missouri/Kansas state line, encouraging much the same kind of self-care. But once your head is clear, then what?

Why, then it’s time for some good troublemaking, and if you want to know about making good trouble while at a serious political disadvantage, let me tell you a couple of stories from ruby red Missouri and her not-quite-so-ruby-red sister Kansas.

Back in 2019, the Kansas Supreme Court ruled that the state constitution’s declaration of fundamental rights includes the rights of women to control their own bodies, including the right to an abortion:

We conclude that, through the language in section 1, the state’s founders acknowledged that the people had rights that preexisted the formation of the Kansas government. There they listed several of these natural, inalienable rights—deliberately choosing language of the Declaration of Independence by a vote of 42 to 6.

Included in that limited category is the right of personal autonomy, which includes the ability to control one’s own body, to assert bodily integrity, and to exercise self-determination. This right allows a woman to make her own decisions regarding her body, health, family formation, and family life—decisions that can include whether to continue a pregnancy. Although not absolute, this right is fundamental. Accordingly, the State is prohibited from restricting this right unless it is doing so to further a compelling government interest and in a way that is narrowly tailored to that interest.

Predictably, the GOP’s evangelical right wing in Kansas went nuts. After whining about the state Supremes, they got to work to overturn this opinion by a constitutional amendment. They wrote their amendment very carefully, got all the necessary signatures, and made the political decision to put it on the August 2022 primary election ballot. That choice presumed that this would make it easier to pass, as primary elections tend to draw only the hard-core voters, which they thought would work in their favor.

To borrow a phrase, they chose poorly.

While everyone was preparing for that election, SCOTUS handed down the Dobbs opinion. The wingnuts cheered, and progressives wailed. But the progressives in Kansas did more than whine and whinge.

Young people, particularly young women in Lawrence (U of KS), Manhattan (K State), Wichita (Wichita St), and the KC suburbs of metro KC got to work. First, they recruited other young people, registered them in huge numbers, and got them fired up enough to get their friends to register and then fired up enough to actually turn out to vote. Second, and at least as important, the local KS folks driving the resistance convinced all the usual national groups that the language to use to fight this battle was not the language of women’s rights, but the language of choice in health care decision-making. “Do you really want bureaucrats in Topeka getting between you and your doctor?”

That language resonated, because the local folks knew their neighbors and the national folks trusted the local activists. I had countless conversations with longtime Kansas republicans, quoting it back to me approvingly as they told me of their decision to vote no and defeat the amendment. And the result wasn’t even close – the amendment went down by roughly 60-40 margins. The local reaction was amazing:

“You guys, we did it,” said Rachel Sweet, campaign manager for Kansans for Constitutional Freedom, as she addressed a crowd of abortion-rights supporters at a watch party in Overland Park. “We blocked this amendment. Can you believe it?”

[snip]

Voters showed up in unforeseen numbers in urban areas of the state, while rural areas underperformed compared with turnout in the presidential race two years ago.“From the moment lawmakers put this on a primary ballot, we knew this was going to be an uphill battle, but we did not despair,” Sweet said. “We put in the work and these numbers speak for themself.”

Dawn Rattan, who attended the watch party in Overland Park, said the defeat of the amendment shows that reproductive health care is an issue that crosses party lines, “and people everywhere want women to have a choice.” She was moved to tears when the result was announced.

“I was so scared,” Rattan said. “I was so worried that it was going to be really close, and this is just so decisive, it’s not even close.

The activists in Kansas were as angry as anyone else about Dobbs, and they didn’t let feelings of impotence about the Supreme Court paralyze them and keep them from working on the local level. Instead of crying about places where they couldn’t make a difference, they found a place where they *could* make a difference. And then they worked their butts off to make their state a marginally safer place to be a woman of reproductive age.

Another story, from across the state line . . .

As COVID was raging in Missouri, Eric Schmitt — then the MO Attorney General — had a rather unique approach to his job. He had his eye on the 2022 Senate race where he would be up against a couple of well-funded primary opponents, and he was at a distinct financial disadvantage. In early 2021, he realized that every time he announced that his office intended to sue someone over a mask mandate or other COVID health regulation, his campaign fundraising went up. A lot. He didn’t even have to actually file the lawsuits, though he did file some. The key thing is that just making the announcement on Twitter brought in contributions by the truckload. So he went all in on these announcements and lawsuits, surprising a number of his former colleagues in the state legislature. A friend with connections in Jefferson City shared a couple of conversations with Republican legislators who said some version of “Sure, he’s always been conservative, but always a quiet, get-the-job-done kind of guy. I never would have guessed he’d be threatening lawsuits like this.” But it worked, and his poll numbers began to rise.

In late 2021, Schmitt made a big deal about twisting a case in St. Louis county involving the state’s Department of Health and Senior Services into a precedent giving him the power to prohibit schools from enforcing any mask mandates. He sent cease and desist letters to school districts with such mandates, threatening a lawsuit if they did not rescind their policies. Some did just that, but others did not, including the Lee’s Summit Reorganized District #7 in the KC suburbs. Instead, the lawyer for the LSR7 district responded to Schmitt’s letter with one of his own, announcing their intention to file a countersuit, filing a huge shot across Schmitt’s bow.

The letter is a real gem, gutting Schmitt’s claims on numerous grounds. Most damning, from my point of view, was this from the end:

We don’t need to rely on just these general statutes to demonstrate the Attorney General’s lack of authority in this matter. Consider what the Legislature has authorized school districts to do in the face of a pandemic. Under RSMo. § 167.191:

It is unlawful for any child to attend any of the public schools of this state while afflicted with any contagious or infectious disease, or while liable to transmit such disease after having been exposed to it. For the purpose of determining the diseased condition, or the liability of transmitting the disease, the teacher or board of directors may require any child to be examined by a physician, and exclude the child from school so long as there is any liability of such disease being transmitted by the pupil.

This law speaks for itself. Not only may a school district exclude from school a child who has COVID; it may exclude from school a child who has been exposed to COVID and who is liable to transmit it pending a medical test or examination to confirm that the child is not afflicted with the disease.

In short, the duly elected Lee’s Summit R-7 Board of Education will not abandon its statutory duty to govern the operations of the school district. If you follow through on your threat to sue the District, we will defend that suit vigorously, and pursue all remedies available to the District resulting from any suit that violates Missouri Supreme Court Rule 55.03, which requires among other things that any claim “is not presented or maintained for any improper purpose” and that the claim “is warranted by existing law.”

As strongly worded as this letter is, I have a hunch that the first draft of the letter was much, much stronger.

Realizing he would lose, Schmitt then dropped his suit and asked that the district do the same. The district refused, saying they wanted to pursue the case so that a firm line would be drawn to prohibit any future attempts by Schmitt or a future AG to illegally try to usurp power granted to the schools over some other issue. By the time that suit was heard, Schmitt was gone and the new AG — Andrew Bailey (lately in the news as being on Trump’s shortlist to be nominated to be the US Attorney General) — had taken office. The ruling was not just in the school’s favor, but exactly the kind of smack-down the district lawyer predicted. From the KC Star:

Judge Marco Roldan, in his 18-page ruling, found that Schmitt, a Republican who was elected to the U.S. Senate last year after four years as state attorney general, did not follow Missouri law when he ordered the Lee’s Summit School District to stop enforcing its COVID-19 mitigation efforts in 2021.

“There exists no Missouri law allowing the Attorney General to involve himself in a School District’s efforts to manage COVID-19 or other disease within its schools,” Roldan wrote in his ruling. The ruling offers a scathing rebuke of Schmitt, who had sued Lee’s Summit and dozens of other school districts at the height of the pandemic.

Schmitt regularly touted the suits on social media and used them to elevate himself in his Senate campaign.

“Parents and students followed the Attorney General’s lead, leading to even greater confusion than the pandemic had already caused,” Roldan wrote.

What matters most, here, is not “the courts solved this” but the fact that this school district — in a relatively evenly divided blue/red community — chose to stand up for themselves and their community. Of the 47 districts to receive Schmitt’s cease and desist letter, this was the only district to push back and get it on the record that the AG was way out of bounds trying to dictate to schools how they are to protect the health of students, teachers, and other staff.

In Missouri, we’ve spent years coming to grips with Trumpist nonsense at the state level where the GOP has held supermajorities in both houses of the legislature as well as a firm grip on executive branch offices. Folks in KC and St. Louis have been fighting the wingnuts in various ways, including exploiting differences between conservative GOP legislators and their over-the-top MAGA colleagues. The Dems in the legislature have been very good at offering selective support to the conservatives in order to outflank the MAGA extremists. Some of the things enacted have not been great, but they forestalled much much worse stuff. They have also been very good at using the courts — even with conservative judges — to stop the “But I won and I want to . . .” whinging from the MAGA folks.

[If you are a regular reader of Emptywheel, the mention of the Lee’s Summit School District might ring a faint bell. “Where have I heard that before? Oh, yes, now I remember . . . “]

In both Kansas and Missouri, local activists have been fighting MAGA on the local level for at least 4 years. Progressives in both states had hoped that things would be improving with a Harris victory, but absent that we are well acquainted with how to fight back, and how to win. Did you hear that Missouri just overturned the harshest state abortion law by putting reproductive rights in the state constitution — on the same night that Trump was voted back into the White House?

It can be done. I wish it wasn’t necessary, but last week’s election made it clear that the good troublemaking must go on.

It can be done. It can be done. It can be done. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Young folks and old folks, office holders and informed ordinary citizens, folks of privilege and folks from the margins . . . making good trouble is work for us all.  And if any other red state folks here have stories to share, please do. We are strengthened by hearing of victories, and we can learn from each other about how to push back in our neighborhoods.

In Germany, November 9th is a day of very mixed emotions.

In 1923, this was the date on which the “Beer Hall Putsch” took place, a failed violent coup led by Hitler and the Nazis to overthrown the Weimar government. The following April, Hitler was convicted of high treason and sentenced to five years in prison (the bare minimum sentence). While in prison, Hitler was given various privileges, and he wrote the first volume of Mein Kampf. By the end of the year, Hitler was released, and he pivoted the Nazi party to seek power via legitimate means. Ten years later, Hitler had become the Chancellor of Germany.

Fifteen years to the day after the Beer Hall Putsch, in 1938, came Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass. On that night, the German authorities stood by as Hitler’s Storm Troopers and members of the Hitler Youth stormed Jewish businesses and buildings, synagogues and schools, hospitals and homes, breaking their windows and ransacking the property. While the Nazis claimed the violence was a spontaneous reaction to the murder of a Nazi official, it was instead a well-planned attack, thousands of Jews were rounded up and sent to concentration camps, and the Nazis demanded the Jewish community pay a huge “Atonement Tax” of 1 billion Reichsmarks, and any insurance payouts to Jews were seized by the government.

As bad as those memories are for Germany, an entirely different memory of November 9th was created in 1989, when after a tumultuous summer, the Berlin Wall came down. JD Bindenagel was the career State Department officer serving as the deputy chief of mission at the US mission in East Germany’s capital of Berlin, and he described it like this in 2019:

On Nov. 9, 1989, there was no sign of revolution. Sure, change was coming—but slowly, we thought. After all, the Solidarity movement in Poland began in the early 1980s. I spent the afternoon at an Aspen Institute reception hosted by David Anderson for his new deputy director, Hildegard Boucsein, with leaders from East and West Berlin, absorbed in our day-to-day business. In the early evening, I attended a reception along with the mayors and many political leaders of East and West Berlin, Allied military commanders and East German lawyer Wolfgang Vogel. Not one of us had any inkling of the events that were about to turn the world upside down.

As the event was ending, Wolfgang Vogel asked me for a ride. I was happy to oblige and hoped to discuss changes to the GDR travel law, the target of the countrywide demonstrations for freedom. On the way, he told me that the Politburo planned to reform the travel law and that the communist leadership had met that day to adopt new rules to satisfy East Germans’ demand for more freedom of travel. I dropped Vogel off at his golden-colored Mercedes near West Berlin’s shopping boulevard, Ku’Damm. Happy about my scoop on the Politburo deliberations, I headed to the embassy. Vogel’s comments would surely make for an exciting report back to the State Department in Washington.

I arrived at the embassy at 7:30 p.m. and went directly to our political section, where I found an animated team of diplomats. At a televised press conference, government spokesman Guenter Schabowski had just announced the Politburo decision to lift travel restrictions, leaving everyone at the embassy stunned. East Germans could now get visitor visas from their local “People’s Police” station, and the East German government would open a new processing center for emigration cases. When an Italian journalist asked the spokesman when the new rules would go into effect, Schabowski fumbled with his papers, unsure—and then mumbled: “Unverzueglich” (immediately). With that, my Vogel scoop evaporated.

At this point, excitement filled the embassy. None of us had the official text of the statement or knew how East Germans planned to implement the new rules. Although Schabowski’s declaration was astounding, it was open to widely varying interpretations. Still dazed by the announcement, we anticipated the rebroadcast an hour later.

At 8 p.m., Political Counselor Jon Greenwald and I watched as West Germany’s news program “Tagesschau” led with the story. By then, political officer Imre Lipping had picked up the official statement and returned to the embassy to report to Washington. Heather Troutman, another political officer, wrote an on-the-ground report that the guards at Checkpoint Charlie were telling East Germans to get visas. Greenwald cabled the text of Schabowski’s announcement to Washington: East Germans had won the freedom to travel and emigrate.

As the cable arrived in Washington, I called the White House Situation Room and State Department Operations Center to discuss the report and alert them to the latest developments. I then called Harry Gilmore, the American minister in West Berlin.

“Harry,” I said, “it looks like you’re going to have a lot of visitors soon. We’re just not sure yet what that rush of visitors will look like.”

We assumed that, at best, East Germans would start crossing into West Berlin the next day. In those first moments, the wall remained impassable. After all, these were Germans; they were known for following the rules. Schabowski had announced the visa rules, and we believed there would be an orderly process. East Germans, however, were following West German television coverage, as well. And, as it turned out, they decided to hold their government to its word immediately.

I headed home around 10 p.m. to watch events unfold on West German television. On my way to Pankow, I was surprised by the unusual amount of traffic. The “Trabi,” with its two-cycle engine and a body made of plasticized pressed-wood, spewing gas and oil smoke, was always in short supply. Perhaps one of the most striking symbols of East Germany’s economy, those iconic cars now filled the streets despite the late hour—and they were headed to the Bornholmer Strasse checkpoint. Near the checkpoint, drivers were abandoning them left and right.

Ahead of me, the blazing lights of a West German television crew led by Der Spiegel reporter Georg Mascolo illuminated the checkpoint. The TV crew, safely ensconced in the West, was preparing for a live broadcast. Despite the bright lights, all I could make out was a steadily growing number of demonstrators gathering at the checkpoint. From the tumult, I could faintly hear yells of “Tor auf!” (Open the gate!) Anxious East Germans had started confronting the East German border guards. Inside the crossing, armed border police waited for instructions.

Amid a massive movement of people, fed by live TV, the revolution that had started so slowly was rapidly spinning out of control. The question running through my mind was whether the Soviet Army would stay in its barracks. There were 380,000 Soviet soldiers in East Germany. In diplomatic circles, we expected that the Soviet Union, the military superpower, would not give up East Germany without a fight. Our role was to worry—the constant modus operandi of a diplomat. But this time, our concern didn’t last long.

When I arrived home around 10:15 p.m., I turned on the TV, called the State Department with the latest developments, and called Ambassador Richard Barkley and then Harry Gilmore again: “Remember I told you that you’d be seeing lots of visitors?” I said. “Well, that might be tonight.”

Just minutes later, I witnessed on live television as a wave of East Berliners broke through the checkpoint at Bornholmer Strasse, where I had been just minutes earlier. My wife, Jean, joined me, and we watched a stream of people crossing the bridge while TV cameras transmitted their pictures around the world. Lights came on in the neighborhood. I was elated. East Germans had made their point clear. After 40 years of Cold War, East Berliners were determined to have freedom.

Bindenagel was elated, the German people were elated (Bindenagel gave more detail in a video interview here, and Deutsche Welle has a host of anniversary articles and interviews here), and the West (broadly speaking) was elated.

A certain KGB agent stationed in East Germany and assigned to work with the Stasi (the East German Secret Police) was most certainly not elated, and grew increasingly frustrated in the weeks that followed. The BBC described the agent’s reaction like this:

It is 5 December 1989 in Dresden, a few weeks after the Berlin Wall has fallen. East German communism is dying on its feet, people power seems irresistible.

Crowds storm the Dresden headquarters of the Stasi, the East German secret police, who suddenly seem helpless.

Then a small group of demonstrators decides to head across the road, to a large house that is the local headquarters of the Soviet secret service, the KGB.

“The guard on the gate immediately rushed back into the house,” recalls one of the group, Siegfried Dannath. But shortly afterwards “an officer emerged – quite small, agitated”.

“He said to our group, ‘Don’t try to force your way into this property. My comrades are armed, and they’re authorised to use their weapons in an emergency.'”

That persuaded the group to withdraw.

But the KGB officer knew how dangerous the situation remained. He described later how he rang the headquarters of a Red Army tank unit to ask for protection.

The answer he received was a devastating, life-changing shock.

“We cannot do anything without orders from Moscow,” the voice at the other end replied. “And Moscow is silent.”

That phrase, “Moscow is silent” has haunted this man ever since. Defiant yet helpless as the 1989 revolution swept over him, he has now himself become “Moscow” – the President of Russia, Vladimir Putin.

For Putin, this was the beginning of the fall of the great Russian empire, and everything Putin has done since was been an effort to restore the greatness of Great Mother Russia, with himself as her leader and savior.

On this November 9th, it is the Germans and West who are worried and Putin who is elated, as Donald Trump prepares to take office. Putin dreams of an end to US military support for Ukraine, a diminished US role in NATO (if not a complete withdrawal from the alliance), and a weakening of the Five Eyes intelligence sharing agreement between the US and the UK, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.

On this November 9th, Putin’s dreams are looking closer to becoming a reality.

On this November 9th, Moscow is no longer silent.

Tonight, up in heaven, along the banks of the River of Life, there’s a local watering hole called King David’s House of Song. It’s a full house, with folks laughing and smiling as they watch the television screens reporting the results of the US elections. Then an old blind black man slowly makes his way through the tables and the people to an upright piano off against the wall, near a small raised stage in the corner.

A few people take notice, and start to poke each other and point to the man heading for the piano. “Shhh . . . Look – he’s gonna sing tonight.” The old man brushed his fingers across the keyboard, grinned the widest whitest smile at the crowd he could not see, and did just that, slowly dragging out the first line as his fingers ran riffs on the keys before him.

“Oh, beautiful, for heroes proved . . .”

As soon as the first syllable emerged from the old man’s mouth, a large black woman smiled and stood. The room parted for her, as she moved past the piano, up onto the stage, and joined her powerful voice to his: “. . . in liberating strife . . . “

Two white guys, one a balding blond and the other with graying brown hair, caught each other’s eyes, nodded, and grabbed a pair of guitars. Then they joined the woman on the stage, and began to sing the harmony parts: “who more than self, their country loved . . .”

Another black man then joined them on the stage, with his trim athletic body and a voice that echoed of the Caribbean, and his hands began beating on a pair of conga drums as he joined the singing: ” . . . and mercy more than life . . .”

Then a newcomer stepped up, turned to the crowd, raised his hands to conduct, and brought the whole place in right on time as the chorus came around: “America, America . . .”

When the song ended, the applause was deafening. When it began to die down, the old man at the piano waved folks to sit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that was Bernice Johnson Reagon on lead vocals,” and the crowd applauded. As it quieted, the old man went on: “Jimmy Buffett and Kris Kristopherson on guitars,” and the applause returned again. “Harry Belafonte on drums.” More applause, louder, plus a few whistles. “And you can call me Ray” said the old man, grinning again as the cheers and whistles roared once more. “But let’s hear it for a newcomer to this joint,” said Ray, “Let’s give a big King David’s House of Song welcome to our conductor this evening, Mr. Quincy Jones!”

The reaction was electric, with waves of cheers and whistles and foot stomping that went on and on and on.

Finally, eventually, slowly, the sound died down, and a small African-American man in the back stood up with his glass raised. “A toast!” he shouted, and everyone was silent, as they turned and looked to see who it was. Then everyone — including King David himself behind the bar — raised their glasses in anxious anticipation.

Gesturing with his glass toward the television screens, the small man smiled a broad smile that took in the whole bar, and walked over to Harry Belafonte. Then he raised his glass even higher, and said three little words — “To good trouble!” — and *dinged* his glass with Harry’s.

“TO GOOD TROUBLE!” the assembly replied, as they all *dinged* their glasses together with each other.

And then the music really got going.

* * *

Back in 2007, late on a Friday afternoon at the height of the trial of Scooter Libby and the legendary liveblogging led by Marcy and the crew of Firedoglake, I told a story at FDL:

One of my kid’s favorite lines at dinnertime is, “We have to ding!”

It started on a Friday when he was not yet two, and we had finally sat down to dinner at the end of a long week for all of us. Mrs. Peterr raised her glass, I raised mine, and in a quiet, exhausted, but happy voice she smiled at me and said “To the weekend.” “To the weekend,” I echoed, touching my glass lightly against hers. Then, from the high chair, a little voice chimed in loudly and proudly, punctuating each word with a swing of his sippy cup: “To. The. Weekend! Now ding with me!”

And so it is at our house, especially on Fridays: We have to ding.

The beverages vary widely, from glass to glass and from day to day – juice, wine, water, sparkling cider, beer, milk, scotch, etc. – and so do the toasts. Some days, we toast each other; other days we toast something great that has happened. Some days, the toasts bring happy thoughts, and on other days, they carry a note of sadness and loss. Some toasts are short, simply naming the person or thing for which we are grateful. Others are longer, and take on Dr. Seuss-like rhymes and rhythms.

The one thing they have in common, though, is a sense of shared gratitude. Mark Twain put it like this: “To get the full value of joy, you must have someone to divide it with.” Science fiction writer Spider Robinson takes Twain one step further: “Shared joy is increased; shared pain is lessened.”

It’s Friday, it’s the end of a rollercoaster of a week, it’s five o’clock somewhere, and we’ve got to ding.

A lot has happened since the Kid first swung that sippy cup. He is now a college graduate and is gainfully employed, Scooter was convicted, then had his sentence commuted, and eventually was pardoned. Dubya gave way to Obama, and then came four years — four long years — of Donald Trump. Four years ago, Biden began the long tough slog of repairing our relationships abroad, as well as our COVID-battered communities here at home.

Now, after four years of Trump plotting to return and wreak vengeance with Republican leaders embracing cowardice and cravenness, tonight is the end of a rollercoaster of a campaign, the polls are closed, and by God we *have* to ding.

Raising a glass

To good trouble, and the good troublemakers who make it!

*DING*

John Lewis is still dead, but the good troublemaking goes on. And we are going to need every bit of it and then some over the next four years.

So what’s in your sippy cup, and what’s your toast tonight?

As the voters stream to the polls today, as workers at precincts around the country welcome voters to cast their ballots, as state and county election officials prepare for the counting that will take place, and as lawyers prepare for the inevitable fights in the days to come, it is incumbent on us at EW to shoot down rumors of conspiracies flying around on this momentous day.

So let’s get right to it.

There is no truth to the rumor that the staff at Mar-a-Lago has put plastic sheeting over the walls, to make cleaning up any thrown pasta easier. If anyone tells you that the custodial staff is worried about Trump throwing his dinner around once results start coming in, do not believe them.

There is no truth to the rumor that JD Vance has prepared a concession speech filled with remorse for the things he said about Kamala Harris during the campaign, and there is absolutely no truth whatsoever that Peter Thiel is preparing to have JD Vance disappeared for his failure to win.

There is no truth to the rumor that Lara Trump is planning to move to Saudi Arabia should Harris/Walz win.

There is no truth to the rumor that Fox News has a contingency plan to have an intern shut down the power to the FOX studios and take them off the air on election night if the results come in putting Harris over the top.

There is no truth to the rumor that Ivanka and Jared are giving the Saudi’s back the money they were given to “invest” back in 2020.

There is no truth to the rumor that Elon Musk is shorting DJT stock.

There is no truth to the rumor that Mike Pence has a bottle of champagne on ice for he and Mother to share this evening, should Trump/Vance lose.

There is no truth to the rumor that Alito and Thomas are so despondent at the mere thought of Trump losing that their doctors are worried about them succumbing to heart attacks in the next 72 hours.

There is no truth to the rumor that Bill Barr is preparing a memo for Kamala Harris, laying out the rationale for her naming him as her new AG should Trump lose.

There is no truth to the rumor that Liz Cheney has practicing her sincerity in anticipation of making a call later this evening to Donald Trump, offering her solemn condolences at Trump’s loss, and absolutely no truth whatsoever that her practice sessions are not going well because she can’t get through two sentences without laughing.

There is no truth to the rumor that Gavin Newsom is planning a call to Donald Trump Junior and Kimberly Guilfoyle, offering condolences on the occasion of the loss of Trump/Vance.

There is no truth to the rumor that Ted Cruz already has purchased a new home in Cancun, and absolutely no truth whatsoever that in a gesture of bipartisanship, Colin Allred has already generously agreed to bring pizza and empty boxes to help him pack.

There is no truth to the rumor that Mitt Romney has laid in numerous kegs of beer for his watch party tonight at the Romney family home, and absolutely no truth whatsoever that Mitt’s sister niece Ronna McDaniel is planning to resume using “Romney” in her name again.

There is no truth to the rumor that Trump’s staffers are secretly preparing to call in sick this evening, rather than attend any watch parties or “victory” rallies, so that they can prepare to enter witness protection programs.

THERE IS NO TRUTH TO ANY OF THESE THINGS.

There is also a rumor that the members of Putin’s election interference unit are reeling in terror at the mere thought that Harris/Walz may win, resulting in an all-expenses paid one way trip to Ukraine for the entire group. This rumor we have been unable to debunk or verify.

If you have heard other rumors that need to be shut down, please add them in the comments.

The Second Amendment as written and ratified: “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

The Second Amendment, as applied by US Federal Judge John W. Broomes of the Kansas District: “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, t [T]he right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

From the top of Broomes’ ruling on Wednesday tossing out a gun possession charge:

This matter is before the court on Defendant’s motion to dismiss based on Second Amendment grounds. (Doc. 26.) A response and a reply have been filed (Docs. 28, 29), and the court held a hearing to establish additional facts about the weapons charged. The motion is thus ripe for review. The court finds that the Second Amendment applies to the weapons charged  because they are “bearable arms” within the original meaning of the amendment. The court further finds that the government has failed to establish that this nation’s history of gun regulation justifies the application of 18 U.S.C. § 922(o) to Defendant. The court therefore grants the motion to dismiss.

And just what were the weapons in question that were charged?

I. Background

Defendant Tamori Morgan is charged with two counts of possessing a machinegun [sic throughout] in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 922(o). (Doc. 1.) Specifically, Defendant is charged with possessing an Anderson Manufacturing, model AM-15 .300 caliber machinegun and a machinegun conversion device.  It was established at the hearing that the conversion device is a so-called “Glock switch” which allows a Glock, model 33, .357 SIG caliber firearm to fire as an automatic weapon.

Making machine guns great again. Wonderful.

Just as the Alito-authored Dobbs spawned a host of ugly laws, regulations, and ripple effects across the country, the Thomas-authored Bruen is now doing the same. Welcome to the Federalist Society Judicial System.

Elections matter, people. Elections matter a lot.