What to Do?

When they kick at your front door

How you gonna come?

With your hands on your head

Or on the trigger of your gun

When the law break in

How you gonna go?

Shot down on the pavement

Or waiting in death row

You can crush us, you can bruise us

But you'll have to answer to

Oh-oh, the guns of Brixton

The money feels good

And your life you like it well

But surely your time will come

As in Heaven as in Hell

-The Clash, circa 1980

I've seen that painting maybe a hundred times, including in person, and never noticed the dead guy with no pants. Sans pantalons, as one might say.

So, in the space of the last week El Presidente has declared martial law in our nation's capital, and brought in armed Red State soldiers to make his point (Jubal Early must be green with envy, or perhaps just decomposition). He welcomed a murderous dictator onto our soil with a red carpet and a flyby of my beloved Air Force, in the course of trying to force a free country fighting for its life to surrender "for peace". You know it's bad when the leaders of the rest of free Europe jump on last minute flight to DC today to intervene on behalf of plucky little Ukraine.

So, we're the bad guys, an authoritarian state run by a demented dictator and a rogues gallery of screw ups hired for loyalty rather than competence.

But what to do about it? Vote? Leave the country? Protest?

The problem here is a lack of political leadership among the opposition. Newsom has the right idea, but it's just a start.

Time to buy my head in work.