I am not
a fan of President Trump, to say the least. And I have been reading many pieces slamming
him for various sins—all of them he actually committed. My head is full of more
remarks of that kind, potentially without end. But after thinking about it, I
decided not to throw another pebble into the anti-Trump pond, though I don’t
know whether I can stick to that resolve. Instead, the calmer part of my psyche
preaches that I should shut up and let matters take their course. That sermon
assumes that before long Trump will really mess up and, with luck,
self-destruct before his four years are up. My fear is that this outcome is
excessively optimistic. But then, somehow—somehow!—I remain an optimist.
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