DANGEROUS TIMES
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Day 396

2/19/2018

 

On Presidents Day, A Girl's Thoughts Turn To... IMPEACHMENT

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   “SO, ARTICLE III,
Section 3, is pretty much out of the question,” I said out loud, to nobody in particular.
   Cat was within earshot. And while he doesn’t belong to, in your wildest imagination, that subgenus of Felis Catus known as Curious, he felt free to butt in. Truth to tell, on any given day Cat doesn’t have that much else to do.
   “What are you talking to yourself about?” Cat demanded.
   “It’s Presidents Day,” I said. “So I looked up stuff about treason in the Constitution, to see how it applies to getting rid of Trump.”
   “You are such a very strange animal, Phoebe," he said. “First of all, it IS a holiday, so why not give your Trump obsession a rest? And second, you can’t even catch a tennis ball and bring it back the same day; but now, you’re telling me you're some kind of a constitutional scholar?”
   “The danger that Donald Trump poses to this country never takes a holiday,” I said.
   “But treason, Phoebe? What does treason have to do with Trump?” Cat said. 


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   “THE GUY SEEMS the very embodiment of treason,” I said. “Our main man, the Most Incredibly Honorable Mueller, comes out with a set of indictments that show just how the Russians messed with the election, in really frightening ways, and Trump’s reaction is that it shows that he’s in the clear. 'What did I tell you folks: No collusion.' ”
    Cat added: “And he said that it was President Obama who didn’t stop the Russians from interfering with the election in which there was no interference, because I won.”
   “Cat, you ARE paying attention,” I said. “The worst thing Trump did was Tweet that if the FBI hadn’t been so focused on linking him with the Russians, maybe they wouldn’t have ignored the tip that a guy was planning to  murder 17 students at a Florida high school. Using dead students to make his lying case.”
   “Calm down, Rabid One," Cat counseled. "Granted, Trump’s a creep; But what says the Distinguished Professor of Armchair Retrospectivity  that being a creep has anything to do with treason?”
   “He’s the gosh darn Commander-in-Chief, and he isn’t doing a thing – not one thing – to do stop the Russians from attacking the most important part of democracy, our right to vote,” I said, shouting so that my girlish nose turned a frightening shade of pink. "Isn’t that treason?”
   “You’re the red-nosed professor,” Cat said. “You tell me: is it treason?”


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"PROBABLY NOT," I said. “Here’s treason in Founding-Fathers-Speak, going back to the aforementioned Article III, Section 3:”

   Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort.
  
   “Seems straightforward to me,” Cat said. “At the very least, by not doing anything, not lifting a finger, not combing his hair a different way, not addressing the nation in prime time:
   My Fellow Americans, I know you all would rather be watching reruns of "The Apprentice." But I am talking you tonight from the Oval Office on a matter of the utmost urgency: our beloved United States of America is under attack...."
   “You’d think Do-Nothing Donald is aiding and comforting; and adhering for sure," he said.
   “But because you’re a cat, and not a worm of the bookish kind, you’d be wrong," I said.
   "You forgot about the first part, the levying War part," I said. "There apparently has to be a declared war for there to be treason. And we’re not exactly at war with Russia. We hang out on the space station with the Russians, sell them wheat and hold Miss Universe pageants in Moscow.”
   “So treason is out,” Cat said. “Isn’t the Constitution worth the parliament it’s written on?”
   “That would be parchment, Cat,” I said.
   “There actually is something that might apply to Trump. And for that, Mr. Fur Ball, we turn now to Article II, Section 1, which has the Oath the president has to swear when inaugurated.”
   “You mean, there’s a law about the president swearing,” Cat said. “This one swears all the time. Didn’t he use the word ‘shithouse’ or was it ‘shithole?’ And he Tweeted the word ‘ass’ recently."
   “This is why cats should stick to their living room  couches and let the dogs dig up the law of the land,” I said. “Here’s what  Article II, Section 1, says, in part:

   Before he enter on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the following Oath or Affirmation:—"I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

   “You mean, that if Hillary had won, she couldn’t take the Oath or the Affirmation, meaning that no matter what the Russians did, Trump was the only viable candidate, him being a 'he?' And no 'she's' can be President.”
   “I wish cats would, as the saying goes, ‘get their tongues’ and choke on them,” I said.
   “That Oath means that the president shall do his (or her) best to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution, which HE’s shown absolutely no interest in doing.”
   “Case closed, slam dunk,” Cat shouted. “Now all we have to do is elect lots of Democrats to Congress this fall, and say: ‘Senators and Representatives, Start Your Impeachment Proceedings.’ ”
   "That's assuming...," I said.
   "Assuming what?" Cat said.
   “That's assuming it's okay with the Russians.
"

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    A "sweet dog" and a smart opossum consider a nation at risk.

    The writers

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    PHOEBE, a "sweet dog" who came to Rhode Island in 2010 as a stray puppy from Missouri, was a political agnostic until Trump's catastrophic election. She tracked his presidency in a blog, which she decided to resurrect it this year  when it became obvious that Republicans are committed to Trump's destructive policies
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    MR. O, an opossum, showed up in Phoebe's backyard somewhat mysteriously. He turned out to have genuine insight into political matters, and he agreed to assume co-author duties of the blog after Phoebe's previous writing partner, Cat, a cat, died.
    Picture
    CAT

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