Today after 568 episodes I posted the final installment of #TolstoysTalesofTrump Grateful to all who encouraged and RT’d. Writing these helped keep me sane. But by laughing at a figure of moral ruin I hoped to honor values that matter—love, truth, unselfishness, gentleness.
1. This marks the 400th posting of #TolstoysTalesofTrump! Learning that even my own father @DanielEllsberg was mystified by this saga, perhaps some explanation is in order. First: These are not actually written by Tolstoy (1828-1910), who did not live to see the rise of Twitter.
The issues and rhetoric of his campaign were even more extreme—calling for torture, targeting families of terrorists, banning all Muslims from US, promising to lock up his rival, etc.
“So, I must point out that our new President has pledged to pursue certain policies that would advance moral evils and threaten human life and dignity.”—words that the @USCCB never applied to Trump.
“Today, we confess our past failures to live according to our vision of equality, inclusion and freedom for all. Yet we resolutely commit still more now to renewing the vision.”americamagazine.org/faith/20… via @americamag
Woke this morning to watch Trump’s farewell—the usual emptiness and soul-deadening banality that pretends to have some reality because surrounded by saluting soldiers and waving flags; in other words, our daily diet for the past 4 years. And then followed the Inauguration. . .
an abrupt shift to a different America, a different reality. I had expected tears, but not to be convulsed by uncontrollable sobs. Not until today did I realize how much I had been holding inside—keeping my feelings in check through anger or satire (#TolstoysTalesofTrump).
Through all the lies, corruption, and barbarism, I didn’t cry. But to watch this simple constitutional ceremony—now suddenly a sacred recommitment to principles of justice, truth, human decency and solidarity--was overwhelming. Like breathing again.
After years when biblical faith was cynically exploited for the sake of power, to foment division, in service of nationalism and white supremacy, to hear instead prophetic faith invoked in the spirit of healing, justice, hope, and compassion, was like rain after a long drought.
There is much work to be done--reckoning, repair, and renewal--but as I listened to the songs, speeches, and the extraordinary poem of Amanda Gorman, on--I felt the beginning of healing in my own heart, and hope for the country and the work that lies ahead.
Perhaps some are so coarsened and calloused by the past 4 yrs that they can’t respond to the opportunity of this moment or tell the difference between fake and real patriotism. But perhaps for others it was a reminder....
And so the master rode off into the sunrise. Some said he would wander the earth, seeking the happiness that had always eluded him. Others, that he would plot his revenge and his return in some form. As the master was wont to say, “We’ll see what happens.” #TolstoysTalesofTrump
Discovering that all his servants had slipped away, the master was determined to make his final night a special one by awarding himself all the prizes that had eluded him: an Eagle Scout badge, a Purple Heart, a coveted Emmy, and Michigan Man of the Year. #TolstoysTalesofTrump