He doesn’t care about LGBTs’ rights. He doesn’t care about African-Americans’ rights. He doesn’t care about Mexican-Americans’ rights. Or Arab and Muslim Americans’ rights. Or women’s rights. Or middle-class workers’ rights. Or climate change science. Or public education. Or environmental protection. Or public health. Or foreign relations. Or national security. Or facts. Or telling the truth. Or war powers in the hands of generals. Or the democratic republic of the United States. Or his family’s corruption. To whom does this partial list apply? No, not the Tweety Bird in the Oval Office (not just Tweety, that is). It belongs to Tweety’s true constituency, the upward one that ascends through Bannon and McConnell and aRyan and even Robert Mercer, to Firtash and Mogilevich and ultimately to Uncle Volodya, who is his true mentor. He becomes a They, the megabillionaires who own half the world’s wealth, each as much as 175,000,000 other people, and the Russian Iron Triangle that services them. The what? Russian oligarchs, criminals, and client autocrats in a grotesque dance of death. Boghul, baby, as advertised.
Boghul & Acephale 