When the Levee Breaks

More hounds of hell today, lots of them; a near flood of them.  This is what happens, Trump, when you fire the one who is investigating you; only when you’re president, it also happens to everyone else in the country.

Today I woke up to news from Louise Mensch.  She said that beginning the very day Trump fired Comey, Senator Orrin Hatch started being given daily national security briefings.  Yeah, you read that right: President 101 classes, the same ones Trump thinks he is too smart for.

If this is indeed happening, it’s because Pence is as dirty as Trump and cannot be president, nor can Paul Ryan with his (alleged) upcoming RICO issues.  That brings us to Hatch, president pro tem of the Senate.  Of course, right away someone else on Twitter chimed in and claimed that Hatch has accepted laundered Russian money as donations, to the tune of about $65,000.  So who knows; we could even end up with General Mattis.  But right now it’s apparently Hatch.

And why would the powers-that-be suddenly be feeling emboldened to quietly appoint a president-in-waiting?  Because, it turns out, Trump is now under indictment for RICO violations.  It’s a sealed indictment and can come to nothing if Trump is not impeached, but evidently that’s being worked on as well.  There’s apparently enough dirt clinging to various Republican members of Congress (and the entire Republican party) to sway at least a few of them, if only to save their own sorry asses.

Our European allies are whispering in our IC’s ears and offering quiet help and information.  That must be the dull roar I hear in the background, or it just could be the distant levee breaking from so much rain.  Day after day after day there’s been more and more, drip, drip, drip.

A song kept running through my head all day; I referenced it above.  It’s “When the Levee Breaks,” (Kansas Joe McCoy, Memphis Minnie, 1929), as performed by Led Zeppelin.  If you’ve never heard this version, it’s bone-crushingly heavy, matching the mood of the day.  One imagines the sound of a tank crushing the proverbial china shop.

The lyrics, which are about a Mississippi River flood in the 1920’s, are nothing if not prescient:

If it keeps on raining, levee’s going to break
If it keeps on raining, levee’s going to break
When the levee breaks, have no place to stay…
Cryin’ won’t help yuh, cryin’ won’t do you no good, no
Cryin’ won’t help yuh, cryin’ won’t do you no good
When the levee breaks, mama you got to move
…Going down, going down now, going down, down, down…

Interestingly this version of the song was recorded during the Nixon years, at just before the point where the levee of that time was about to break.  I have a feeling we’re in such a time again.

If you listen hard enough, you can hear the distant roar and the baying of the hounds.  But then at the next moment, you think you may be imagining it and you’re lost in a fog again with that ceaseless drip, drip, drip as your constant companion.

And that’s the problem; we’ve all had enough; we can’t take any more phantoms.  Let it be real this time.

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