So here's a Blogger's Note: June (starting a couple of days early) is going to be a lot less active around this joint than usual. Two reasons. One is that I'm an old man (sort of) with vacation time, and I plan to use it. Second is that when I am working, like today, I'm working on a (hopefully) special piece that requires some shoe-leather reporting, which means I can't go pounding the keyboard every few hours when President Trump commits yet another impeachable offense.

Luckily, other folks who are much, much better writers than me are on the case. None better than the long-time essayist Rebecca Solnit, who has produced maybe the best, most cutting rumination on the 45th president to yet be written. It begins something like this:

Once upon a time, a child was born into wealth and wanted for nothing, but he was possessed by bottomless, endless, grating, grasping wanting, and wanted more, and got it, and more after that, and always more. He was a pair of ragged orange claws upon the ocean floor, forever scuttling, pinching, reaching for more, a carrion crab, a lobster and a boiling lobster pot in one, a termite, a tyrant over his own little empires. He got a boost at the beginning from the wealth handed him and then moved among grifters and mobsters who cut him slack as long as he was useful, or maybe there's slack in arenas where people live by personal loyalty until they betray, and not by rules, and certainly not by the law or the book. So for seven decades, he fed his appetites and exercised his license to lie, cheat, steal, and stiff working people of their wages, made messes, left them behind, grabbed more baubles, and left them in ruin.

He was supposed to be a great maker of things, but he was mostly a breaker. He acquired buildings and women and enterprises and treated them all alike, promoting and deserting them, running into bankruptcies and divorces, treading on lawsuits the way a lumberjack of old walked across the logs floating on their way to the mill, but as long as he moved in his underworld of dealmakers the rules were wobbly and the enforcement was wobblier and he could stay afloat. But his appetite was endless, and he wanted more, and he gambled to become the most powerful man in the world, and won, careless of what he wished for.

Please check out the rest, and ponder a world that creates such beautiful writers yet such terrible politicians.