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The breakdown of norms at home undermines democracy, in foreign
affairs it undermines security. Americans must hold the president to
account
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Donald Trump: this is not normal.
Photograph: Carolyn Kaster/AP
This is not normal.
In the age of President Donald Trump,
it is necessary to repeat this mantra constantly. The ways in which
Trump breaks norms and shocks the conscience overwhelm America’s
capacity to process each event with the appropriate level of outrage and
accountability. America’s attention too often moves from one story to
the next like sports highlights. Slowly, surely, America’s norms are
stripped away.
The legal system is beginning to hold Trump and his associates
accountable, evidenced by the guilty pleas, convictions and indictments
emanating from the special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation
into Russian election interference in 2016. Other Trump actions and
policies have sparked countless lawsuits, from those challenging emoluments to the travel and asylum bans. However imperfect the system, breaking the law can have consequences.
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The penalty for breaking norms, however, isn’t so simple. Presidents
are not supposed to continue their private business while in office,
attack the media as the “enemy of the people” or talk about throwing political opponents in jail. None of this is normal. But it’s not necessarily illegal.
When it comes to national security, it is much easier to discard
norms. There are laws governing the conduct of US national security
policy, but norms are an essential part of the glue that keeps America
safe. Trump has taken aim at those norms.
US foreign policy has long recognized that alliances with democracies
advance US interests, and that grudging partnerships with autocracies
are to be managed. But Trump treats autocrats like friends, and friends
like enemies. He defends Russia’s President Vladimir Putin against the
US intelligence community; defends the Saudi Arabian autocrat Mohammed
bin Salman, who is accused of ordering the murder of a journalist; and
defends the systematic human rights abuses of the North Korean dictator,
Kim Jong-un, even saying
he wishes the American people would treat Trump with the same deference
the North Korean people are forced to show Kim. Meanwhile, Trump picks
fights with the leaders of Canada, Germany and the United Kingdom.
This
is not normal. America should debate how best to uphold its values in
its foreign policy, not whether those values have a role to play.
Despite periods of xenophobia, America at its best is a country
welcoming of foreigners – the Statue of Liberty greets immigrants with
the words: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning
to breathe free.” But Trump is closing America to those yearning to
breathe free. Trump has drastically reduced the number of refugees
allowed to enter the US, imposed an arbitrary travel ban, is attempting
to curb legal immigration, and sent the US military to the border with
Mexico to respond to a group of desperate people fleeing violence and
poverty.
This is not normal. America can debate the contours of the best
immigration policy, but it should not undermine America’s spirit as a
land of opportunity.
While climate change has become a partisan issue – with conservatives
often denying its existence or extent – US policy should be driven by
facts, and facts make clear that manmade climate change is imperiling
life on earth. The entire world agrees – except for Trump. Climate
change is one of the only existential threats the world faces, and Trump
is actively working to make it worse.
This is not normal. America should debate the best way to tackle climate change, not its existence.
America has never had to question whether its president prioritized
the country’s interests above all else. But with Trump, it increasingly
looks like the president is compromised by Russia. While laws may have
been broken (Mueller is on the case), the very idea of a compromised
president is shocking. We already know that: Trump asked Russia to find
Hillary Clinton’s emails in 2016; Trump attempted to do business with
Vladimir Putin during the campaign; Trump regularly takes Putin’s side
over US intelligence agencies; a number of Trump’s senior aides are
guilty of crimes related to dealings with Russia; and Trump regularly
attacks US law enforcement for investigating Trump’s connections to
Russia. Trump is acting like he is compromised.
This is not normal. America should debate the best way to protect
itself from Russia – it should not have to debate whether the president
is in Russia’s pocket.
And no national security decisions should be made on the fly by
tweet. Decisions about how to safeguard America require extensive
deliberation within the US government and public. But Trump often makes
major national security decisions – such as removing US troops from
Syria or meeting with Kim – on a whim, surprising US officials and
endangering US interests.
This
is not normal. America needs substantive debate about policies and
should not have to wonder whether decisions are made on a whim by
Trump’s “very, very large brain”.
American history is filled with dark periods, from the wars against
Native Americans to slavery, the internment of Japanese Americans to the
oppression of women and minorities. But America has also been a beacon
to the world, as evidenced by the large numbers of people who have
sacrificed much to come to these shores. America has continually worked
to improve itself, over time building norms and laws that help protect
this country.
The breakdown of norms at home undermines democracy. The breakdown of
norms in foreign affairs undermines American security. That is why
Americans must continue to remind themselves that what they are seeing
right now is not normal and hold Trump to account with vigorous
congressional oversight and vocal public pushback.
The breakdown of norms at home undermines democracy. The breakdown of
norms in foreign affairs undermines American security. That is why
Americans must continue to remind themselves that what they are seeing
right now is not normal and hold Trump to account with vigorous
congressional oversight and vocal public pushback.
*************** you can go directly to the Guardian to read this yourself. I read 3
newspapers, watch BBC and SKY, plus BBC Radio4 every day. Tweets should
not rule us, and Facebook is not our master either. THINK FOR YOURSELF
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So you expect me to talk about running around and lifting weights? I’m not the Rock, though I probably weight more than him, I just googled so we may actually be the same weight. Obviously I look so much better than him, with my silver hair, I only mentioned him because he was in the paper doing a Charity thing with kids. He really looked as if he was enjoying it, so God Bless him, and more power to his elbow as they say.
Now why mention him, because I was doing my circuit this morning, which does not involve throwing the Rock around the ring till he starts to cry because I’ve broken his best fingernail, the one he uses to scratch his scratch card with, to see has he won a few quid. My circuit is leaving the house and turning right, I cannot turn left ever since the accident.
The Zoolander accident so I just cannot turn left, that is left not Left, my Political persuasions are my own dirty secret. Though no Politician could ever persuade me, not unless it involved a lot of Cream, with a cherry on top. Just so you are not Confucius and it’s very easy to get Confucius, if the Rock throws you and you bang your head then you’ll certainly get a cherry on your top, or at least a black eye.
So where was, I let me be Blunt, Emily stop slapping the Rock we know you are Mary Poppins, but stop shoving him up the chimney, he’ll never master a Cockney accent like Dick did. He can listen to MY audio online then he’ll speak Posh Birmingham, and no don’t spray Old Spice on his bum either. I know the paper today said you did not get pay parity for your jungle film. But making a grown man cry is not the answer. He can play your Gay brother in your next film together, and you can get top billing, and he can get less dollars than you. Now I hope that has sorted everything for you.
I’m going around in circles, so is the Rock I stapled his foot to the canvas accidentally, while I was getting Emily’s autograph, I thought he was security, I didn’t even know who he was all dressed up in kinky black flight suit thingy, with Jason his best buddy. I knew who Jason was, now he IS security.
Where was I, yes here, but I need to go to the kitchen soon to get another drink, and steal what’s left of the Christmas chocolate. So I just turn right and at the end of the road I have to decide shall I nip into the woods, no not for a crafty pee, it would frighten walkers and squirrels alike. Shall I turn, no not back into Santa, I look like Santa as I’m dressed all in red, but with beard now shaved. Shall I turn this way or that, or just do a Margaret, the Lady is not for Turning, Margaret.
So I turn my other cheeks to the wind, this coat is a wee bit too short, Donald’s are much longer to hide his his his whatever. And then I walk down the hill to the shops. Now if I could go more than One Direction I’d be in a boy band, but turning left leads to another part of the woods and a bigger and steeper hill, I am a kind of Benny Hill already, well at least I have the same Twinkle, maybe one day I’ll be a star.
As I walk down the less steep hill I observe all the houses, they could build an observatory here as it’s so dark at night, which sounds like some guilty chocolate pleasure. Please Yourselves, as Frankie Howerd might say, though you’re ahead of me already. So I truck down the hill singing an old 10cc song, concentrating on getting the words right. Only at one corner somebody tries to kill me with his car, I’m bright red everywhere with silver hair on top. Sorry Mate, I didn’t see you he shouts as he continues on his way. It was Santa, a very drunk Santa on his way home after stopping in the woods to see Lech, Boris and Gregorgi, I’m sure he’s one of their relatives.
So I finally get to the shop and see the price of sausages. We love Richmond sausages, only my Shanghai wife does not know the difference between skinless sausages and the normal variety. So my daughter insisted I went out to get the proper Richmond sausage variety. This would aid her while she studies for her Mock A Levels. I also had to buy Chorizo and wraps, these are foods that feed Science brains.
Once I’d bought these I was able to finish my circuit by prancing onto a bus to take me up that hill, I am no Kate Bush after all, more of a Benny, without the woolly hat. I overshoot my road and then prance back down the hill again before turning again right to get to the right road. I keep right on to the end of the road, because I am a Pilgrim Hippy after all, and Eric is always practicing up in his bedroom. Sometimes with the guitar, but mainly with Sally.
Luckily I can turn a deaf ear because I’ve still sot got over my ear infection. Through Eric has blind faith in his blinds, as he and Sally scale the heights with their Domino constructions. Which is something to do about making love on a mountain, though we are just a very steep hill, or it could have something to do with tops of wardrobes. But at least I have brought the frozen sausages home.
michaelgcasey wrote today at 7:47 AM in Nov 2011,
something I read tonight reminded me of this
Cobwebs of Love(c)
By Michael Casey
Kids need good parents, friends we choose for ourselves, your families you get anyway.
I'm lucky I had great parents. Faith does help, but kids get bigger and decide for themselves if their parents were talking rubbish or were worth listening too.
Kids travel and find their own way home to their faith and their families. Elastic is very important in relationships and faith. If you try to keep things set in stone then you will be in for a fall. Nothing is set in stone, friendships change and alter and our own understandings change and alter.
Have a bit of elastic in your life is my best advice. You are not in an army and getting up at 5am and doing all the marching and so forth. Yes have discipline and rules, but be aware IF you force somebody to do something when they have the chance to rebel then they will. You
cannot chain anybody to you or your faith, brainwashing is a bad idea, listen to the Genesis song Jesus we know him.......
So you bind your family and friends and faith to you by cobwebs of love and nothing stronger than cobwebs of love. Love should be like that its a cobweb of love, also be happy to have a Prodigal Son in your life, happy because you will always welcome them back. If you're lucky you'll never have any Prodigal sons
in your life but I already tell my kids I'll always love them and they can always come home, leave your doors open with cobwebs of love waiting there
Where do you want me to leave my clothes, on the floor next to mine came the reply. That’s the old joke about Photo Shoots, so you can picture the scene of me naked on the floor like Barbarella with a man or should it be a woman photographing me. Though that wouldn’t explain what I did this morning, though it was a male photographer, with an assistant, who was male also. No I wasn’t being photoed for any random magazine, no inner Burt Reynolds revealing all.
No, in actual fact we were taking photos not of me but of my newly painted house. Wide angel of course to fit everything in, just like my large Kardasian size rear end, all natural of course. It was time to show my wares, or rather the house’s wares, all wide open, and ready for potential buyers.
In the end once we had fully moved out I reluctantly decided to take my clothes off, or rather repaint and touch up the house before exposing it to the camera. Then in all its made up glory it could expose itself as it really was, nice and big with plenty of space for fun and frolics. Which did remind me of several things, which I’ll leave to your imagination.
So the photographer went around flashing his laser to get the sizes of the rooms, very Stars Wars. Then he went around taking photos while I chatted to the assistant. I explained the History of this room and that room, after 32 years there was more History than a Michael Jackson album, which I’ve manages to lose during the move. I explained how I had balanced a type writer on a stool as I sat on a broken backed chaired and typed away. The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker was written in the living room in front of the gas fire, then on Leap Years Day 1988 it was completed. However a few years later in an upstairs bedroom it was enlarged into 600+ pages on an Atari 1040.
All this I leave behind with just the painted walls for witnesses. The walls cannot talk though they do have ears, they cannot lie, but they do cry, Michael Casey Writer, the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England was no more, well moved on.
It does feel different freshly painted and naked, no not a model but the walls, without any of my paintings on them. No stray socks or shirts or dirty girls knickers littering the bathroom, just the smell of fresh paint everywhere. Outside my Shamrock still clung on to the garden wall like mountaineers, so I grabbed some and will transplant it to the new house further up the hill.
The house itself is not totally naked a few bits and pieces we have left behind, perfect for a buy to let, or a first time buyer. We upgraded our life at the new place, it will probably be the house I die in, without many years of pain, but it’s all up to God. As the bedroom photos were taken I spread myself on a bed and minced, you have to have a mince at Christmas after all. The assistant laughed and the photographer handed me some money, I told him I could do so much more for a few quid more. I was dressed all in red, like Santa with his beard shaved off. The photographer has a sense of humour, but he’s never getting that 30 pence back, not ever, ever. Not even for a Harry Potter’s Field.
I noted I’d never actually sat on those chairs because they were too low for me post quadruple heart bypass, so I sat like a fool in a corner on a hard wooden chair instead. As I looked around several memories came back, like deciding to get double glazing all those years ago. I carried on boring the assistant with tales of this and that, only stopping to let the photographer out to photograph the nice garden we have.
So Finally it was all over, soon the place will finally pass over to a new family. Time wasters will have been banished , and a new beginning will begin for somebody else. See if they can write17 books and have 2 beautiful daughters inside these four walls that will become their home. So all there is for me to do now is to take my clothes off and run around the house naked for one last time. The photographer and the assistant refused to take those photographers, they are not allowed on Rightmove after all. So I’m stood here naked shivering while I wait for Lucy Lu from the Korea shop to come and take my photograph, she is such a great photographer, normally she takes snaps of dishes for the takeaway food website. Just Eat as they say.
