John Cole skewers the hypocrites who are bleating about Democrats’ having to “end identity politics.” Here’s a teaser; follow the link for a magnificent, blistering rant (language).

What you mean when you say “identity politics” is you mean all those groups you want to systematically oppress try to stand up and defend themselves and it hurts your feelings because you can’t have your way.

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White House with sign:  HELP WANTED for Cabinet Posts.  No experience necessary.  Must be filthy rich.  Yes-Men Preferred--or Hot Women

Will Bunch has more.

Image via Job’s Anger.

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Donald Trump has been making his “transition staff”* sign non-disclosure agreements because that’s how open government works. Or something.

I don’t think that is what the phrase quoted in the title of this post is supposed to mean. I do think it provides more evidence that dark days are ahead . . . .

_________________

*Cue the sound that television closed captions refer to as “scoff.”

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Dick Polman waxes Pence-sive.

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Trumpling down.

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Shaun Mullen.

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In related news, Josh Marshall looks at developments.

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At the Inky, psychiatrist Lawrence Blum offers a quasi-Freudian analysis of the election results. Here’s a bit; follow the link to read the whole thing.

When faced with threat, anxiety, and uncertainty, people want the benefit of phallic magic. In our shared, vital, fantasy world not having or receiving it leaves us in a sorry state. For that reason, it seems clear that many voters were willing to forgive Donald Trump his remarkable (and abusive) phallic excesses in the hope of benefiting from his presumed phallic magic.

There is a broader lesson to be learned from this election. Issues may be important. Reality may be important. But reality seldom trumps fantasy.

I’m not sure I buy it, but it’s far more persuasive than I would wish. One aspect seems correct: Once they wake up, voters will find that they have been well and truly–oh, never mind.

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Man and woman standing next to booth labeled

Click to see the image at its original location.

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Der Spiegel interviews the editor of the New Yorker, David Remnick, regarding his concerns about a Donald Trump presidency. Read it.

Here’s snippet (emphasis added in the body of the text):

SPIEGEL: On the night of the election, you published a stunning warning that the election’s outcome was “surely the way fascism can begin.” It’s been three weeks now. Has fascism begun?

Remnick: No it has not and I want to be clear about what I wrote. The whole sentence, the complete thought is this: I don’t think there will be fascism in America, but we have to do everything we can to fight against it. As the Germans know better than we do, disaster can take a nation by surprise, slowly, and then all at once. My deep sense of alarm has to do with his seeming lack of fealty to constitutionalism. He seems to think it is within his rights to trample the First Amendment, to disdain the press, to punish protesters or flag-burners, to ban ethnic categories of immigrants, and so on. He has myriad conflicts of interest. He appoints people of low quality, to say the least. He lies with astonishing frequency and in stunning volume. His temperament and character is precisely what you would hate to see in your children, much less your president. We can wish all these things will magically change once he is in office, but will they?

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Woman at computer:


Click to see the original image.

Details here.

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Caption:  Sticking It to the Elites.  Image:  Donald Trump sticking

Via Juanita Jean.

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Garrison Keillor wonders why the Trump supporters are still cursing him.

I gather from the letters that their lives were devastated by the advent of gay marriage, political correctness, the threat of gun control, the arrogance of liberals, and now a champion rises from Fifth Avenue and 56th Street and God forbid that any dog should bark when he speaks or any pigeon drop white matter on his limousine.

What the letter-writers don’t grasp is that cursing is highly effective in person – someone kicks his car in rage, forgetting he’s wearing flip-flops, and flames pour from his mouth, it’s impressive. But you see it in print and it’s just ugly. It makes you pity the writer’s wife.

Do please read the rest. As he did in his monologues on his radio show, he eventually wanders to a damned good point.

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