03:45:56 am on
Saturday 05 Dec 2020

Impeachment
AJ Robinson


Charles I of England and Donald Trump

In an episode of the animated series Futurama, Phillip J Fry and Bender, two of the main characters, are on trial for a crime they didn’t commit. At one point, Phillip is on the stand and the judge gets a phone call for Phillip. The judge hands him the phone.


Apparently, Trump called Pelosi to stop impeachment.

The caller is the actual criminal. He warns Phillip not to say anything or he’ll kill him. This sounds all too familiar.

I thought of this scene recently. It was during the initial impeachment hearings in Congress. Although Marie Yovanovitch, the former USA ambassador to the Ukraine was testifying, the Great Orange got on twitter to try to intimidate her. Adam Schiff, who chaired the hearing, read the tweet for the committee; Yovanovitch bravely dismissed the words as meaningless.

Good for her, I say. Yet, the action of Trump harkened to that episode of Futurama. What truly stood out in my mind was that the criminal warned Phillip J Fry not to repeat what the actual criminal said during the phone call; the conversation was strictly private, which made sense. If anyone in the courtroom heard what he was saying to Phillip, he’d have been toast.

Think of that for a second. Donald Trump, the man entrusted with the most powerful office in our country, in the world, is not as smart as an animated television show criminal. Mind you, the character wasn’t a regular or supporting player; he was a minor bit player, so he may not have known his way around the court.

Consider this, too: one of the charges against Bill Clinton during his impeachment hearing and trial was obstruction of justice. He tried to convince an aide to say that she was with him and Monica Lewinsky at all times; that he was never alone Lewinsky. Now, Clinton might be a hound dog, but he at least has enough active brain cells to realize that you don’t try to suborn perjury in front of witnesses; you might lose your job.


Trump brags of breaking the law.

Not only has Trump committed multiple crimes in full view of multiple witnesses, he’s bragged of what he did and does, orders people not to testify and then tries to intimidate those people that do testify. He’s done it all in public or, perhaps, we don’t know of his dirtiest deeds done in private. Do not forget that he’s also promised to pardon anyone who lies for him. That little crime, of suborning perjury just like Clinton, he’s doing in such a way as to let everyone know he’s doing it and thus he is above the law.

I would laugh, if it weren’t so sad. It’s not sad that we have a president that commits so many crimes. We’ve had corrupt politicians in the past, even presidents.

No, what I find truly sad and deeply troubling is how many Republicans defend him, no matter what, and refuse to criticise him or what he did, publically, although they may privately not care for him or his actions. What does that say about such people? What does it say about the future of our nation?

I can say with absolute certainty that these Republicans will split a gut and go thermal with rage if a Democrat ever dares to try to do even one-tenth of the things Trump has done. Hypocrites are they. What worries me is what happens when it’s a Democrat in the White House?

What I fear and dread, truly, is thinking what voters will do. If they continue to give Republicans a pass on these acts, things will only get worse. I know everyone is counting on a Blue Tsunami next November, but I have no such confidence.


The scariest part.

When you consider a third or so of voters seem to agree, totally, with Trump and condone his actions; when they feel anyone with an R after their name on a ballot is their kind of candidate, I fear we’re in for a worse future than any episode of Futurama could possibly portray. Moreover, it could get worse if Trump wins a second term, if you can image.

By way of postscript, here’s a historical note. In January 1649, Charles the first, of England, accused of treason and other high crimes, claimed sovereign immunity. “The King can do no wrong,” he said; his trial or conviction of any criminal charge was not possible. On 30 January 1649, Charles lost his head to an executioner. This is not to suggest Trump should suffer physicial harm, but only to underscore impeachment is always taken as serious business.

Combining the gimlet-eye, of Philip Roth, with the precisive mind of Lionel Trilling, AJ Robinson writes about what goes bump in the mind, of 21st century adults. Raised in Boston, with summers on Martha's Vineyard, AJ now lives in Florida. Working, again, as an engineeer, after years out of the field due to 2009 recession and slow recovery, Robinson finds time to write. His liberal, note the small "l," sensibilities often lead to bouts of righteous indignation, well focused and true. His teen vampire adventure novel, "Vampire Vendetta," will publish in 2020. Robinson continues to write books, screenplays and teleplays and keeps hoping for that big break.

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