Politics is America. Always has been. So has levels of corruption. But... alas, as you say, something else is whistling in the grave yard of our history.

We are experiencing a simply mindedness that goes to the heart of what happens when so much akin to riches and the likes becomes us. Too much pate has watered down the fire in the belly sort of existences. A lame joint of a place where voids are easily filled. Not by the strong or heartfelt nor noble and brave. And intelligent. Yes, for our leaders are neither.

The current President simply a metaphor for what leaders become generations after the ink has dried on the Faustian bargain. A roaming mechanism for the likes of the dark hands. A silent creature of his own desires with not an original idea in sight. Nor ethic to stand upon. A man of what some would suggest is a lost soul wandering in his own desert thinking he is in control, until. Until the questions is asked. Who are you? And the script goes blank. The lights on the teleprompter goes dark. And we await. And await...and finally, relinquish.

And there, in the midst of this moment the truth comes calling. Aligned with the fact, the worst of us is waiting for more of the same. Too much to lose in the short term to even give a whistler's toot for what the next generation will view as a grave yard.

Yes, nothing will change but more of the same. For the time has arrived. Our time, and the notion that the human spirit or lack of, has become us and as always, ever will. Sad, isn't it Mike.

Keep on yelping and crying and doing the hard stuff according to staring at grave yards with the stone there awaiting an inscription. We all need to hear it. And better yet, act accordingly.