A Viper's Nest

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+

DDBoth the White House and the Congress are a nest of vipers. This description revisits a civil war reference, critical of Confederate heritage, that emerged from Matthew’s gospel: because of secession, the war; the South’s command mission to kill free men to preserve slavery, the South was labeled as “a nest of vipers.” The originating quote from Matthew raises a more critical moral and practical point: “You serpents, you generation of vipers, how can you escape the judgment of hell?” (Italics mine, but I believe God concurs!) The brood and offspring of that generation are alive today, and the question remains to be faced.

To the contrary, Republican politics (the party made one of the biggest political shifts ever witnessed globally, from the party of Lincoln to the party of death, hate and repression, covered in a veneer of false ideas) clearly considers damnation a noble and worthy cause. Their heritage as vipers
supreme—no different than the Muslim extremists they condemn. They place the fight above peace. Submission and annihilation are the end game. Others see a rising sun; they only see a twilight, a setting sun–an era of evil without charity and faith, where truth is obscure and lost; but they do not see suffering as their cross, only theirs to inflict.

The ugliest of the vipers is Trump. Mean, lecherous; blinded by hate. His hunger for power unsated, he strikes both allies and his foes. Matthew again informs, “from the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.” For Trump, to win is not enough. The police must “rough them up.” The “old days” of excessive force must be brought back. Here is the viper’s theme: Trump doesn’t want to win in courts; he wants to destroy the rule of law. He doesn’t want a greater America, only a tyrannical America. Trump doesn’t want to govern. He wants power, its trappings, its division and fear.

Trump wants to fix the green lights of government so they are synced and shiny for every whim and demand he conceives. His stories reveal a pathetic bathos: a defeat in every victory proclaimed. The fantasies he seeks to anchor in history are easily proven lies.

When on the cusp of real power, Trump relies on the only power he knows, the power of pretense and blame. A veneer of blind ruses that pretend to be smart and sharp, but are inflated delusions of fear and evil hopes.

Donald cannot live without calamity and make-believe, without shaming those who betray his dreams of power tied to conflict and division. He is trapped by a competence he cannot reach. By a sense of good and evil that for him doesn’t exist.

But a greater wrath than his is tied to Glory and victory for the Righteous; even in the deepening darkness at hand: His wife issued a stunning public rebuke with the silent flick of a wrist. She took exacting measure of the hypocrites’ sins.