Donald Trump was inaugurated as our 45th president on January 20.
Since then, I’ve been mostly quiet—and somewhat bemused.
Because you see, according to the shrieking hordes, the end is nigh. The election of Trump is the final piece in place for the destruction of the United States.
(Doesn’t it seem like said destruction should be further along than this, four months in?)
As much as I still cringe when I see or hear him acting like, well, Donald Trump, I’ve not been so displeased with his governance. He played his Supreme Court nomination exactly as he said he would. Illegal immigration across the southwest border is down 76%. We have sincere efforts underway to undo the worst of Obamacare, and some significant reform appears likely.
(And I’ll admit enjoying the newly hostile environment for the worst of the politically correct hysteria.)
I encounter a germ of legitimate concern once in a while in the ceaseless bleating of Trump’s opponents, but for the most part they’re showcasing their own near-complete lack of self-awareness. The corruption and outright thuggery under the Obama administration was rampant, and either studiously ignored or actively concealed by a sycophantic media.
But similar violations, whether real or perceived in existence and/or degree, under a Trump administration signal the apocalypse.
As Andrew Klavan asked this week: what if everything is basically fine?
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