Morning, coffee sitting next to the keyboard and I am doing what I do most mornings when there isn’t something actually important to do. I am checking my email and scanning over substack feeds. I have checked https://elephantsinkroom.com/ and am pleased that so far today, it hasn’t been hacked. On the way to my desk I checked outside, the trash man came and went and there aren’t any ominous black suv’s surrounding me. If this sounds a little paranoid, well then you don’t try to warn the world against Second String Donny on a daily basis.
One substack thread, from Heather Delaney Reese caught my attention. ‘The worst of Trump is yet to come’. Heather make a couple of good observations, but it’s the title it’s self that has me typing this morning. Because yes, she is correct.
I will use an analogy because one, they’re fun to do and two, everyone is tired of the endless Trump bashing and will just stop here and move on if I don’t provide a little food for thought.
A mangy, un loved and forever barking neighborhood dog that just goes around barking and irritating those who can still afford hearing aids and have enough income to pay for the electricity to charge them. You know the type, a little pain in the ass that thinks it big and beautiful, obviously uses the mirror from an amusement park. Well this dog always wags it’s tail and looks like it loves you, that is until your pocket supply of biscuits runs low, then it starts snapping at you, trying to rip a hole in your jacket to get at those dwindling treats. The ones you are thinking about eating yourself because that dam dog snuck into your house and stole your dinner. Didn’t even thank you properly, just took a dump on your lawn.
The stage is set. You know the dog. Every neighborhood has one. Loud, annoying, convinced it is far more impressive than reality suggests. Most days it’s just a nuisance. A barking soundtrack to everyone’s life.
But eventually the dog pushes things too far. It bites one too many people, steals one too many dinners, leaves one too many surprises on one too many lawns. So somebody finally does what should have been done long ago. They put a collar on it and drive a stake into the ground.
Not through the dog. This isn’t a vampire story.
The problem is that people assume the collar solves the problem. It doesn’t. The collar changes the problem.
A dog that spent its life running wherever it wanted is not suddenly going to become obedient because it found itself at the end of a rope. It’s going to pull. Snarl. Snap. Tear up everything within reach. Not because it has changed, but because it hasn’t.
Now, some people would probably organize a neighborhood meeting. Others would write strongly worded letters. A few would hold a rally and explain to the dog why biting people is wrong. Good luck with that. Me, I’d shorten the rope, reinforce the fence, and spend a lot less time talking about the problem than trying to keep it from chewing through the garage door.
And if the people whose job it is to deal with the problem refuse to act, eventually the rest of the neighborhood starts asking why.
That question may be far more dangerous than the dog.
