Enough!

The hideously soulless and despicable comments made by members of the administration about John McCain has made me rescind my belief that, no matter how vile, how low and mean-spirited, how despicable this orange-haired piece of shit that shuffles and shambles like something supposed to be a man, rescind my belief that I hope no one will go so far as to kill him.
  I had refused to accept the usual post-mortem praises which are given to those made suddenly dead and which would be made in his name even though ripped from bitter mouths by customs and courtesy and allowed to pollute the air. Even those would be acceptable to having to endure his repeated vandalism of basic decency.

AND you, General John Kelly, USMC -- you are a man who has served in war and peace and knows what a measure of a man actually is -- you, sir are a shame and a disgrace to your uniform and your country to allow the repeated attacks by your superior officer
and his staff without public comment, an officer whose torture and punishment was so extreme that even a description of it is painful to endure, and almost impossible to understand how, through all of it, he remained  steadfast, always faithful.

  I finally accept as Saki said:
"This is a man who would be much improved by death."
 
Even as our country might be much improved by a small black hole devouring the White House with all Trump staff and appointees present, leaving behind only an empty space and bitter memories of injustice.

I am not a person who is or has been sentimental about military service or flag-waving,
a 75 year old man whose time in the Marines ended as an injury compounded  during recovery by a loose tongue brought me to no more than a hair's breadth distance from
a Court Marital for Sedition, and who was only delivered from a future of federal imprisonment by the Colonel in charge of the Court, who, reading my single statement in 1964 that "I don't think our government knows what the hell it's doing in this place called Vietnam," laughed, and having established the fact that it was the only statement I had made, dismissed the charges before they were entered into record, saying: 
"I'm not prosecuting a private for saying the same thing I say every day.": 

I have never been what might be called a gung ho patriot, but Senator McCain is the only public figure who,watching clips today of him talking about his love for country, can bring tears to my eyes...

There is a quote which, like most quotes is only a partial piece of entire thought, for example, Carl Schurz's more poetic redaction of an existing quote previously made by Stephen Decatur:
"My country, right or wrong..."
and leaving out the rest: 
"...if right, to be kept right, and if wrong, to be set right."

 There is another quote about love of country, a quote which I googled today to be sure I had it right, and in doing so, found it was part of a longer poem by Sir Walter Scott,  referring to a man who had been away from his homeland and is returning, the first verse of which could have been written for and about Donald Trump....  

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
    This is my own, my native land!  

 -------that's the part we all know but it goes on: 

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, 
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, 
    From wandering on a foreign strand! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well; 
For him no Minstrel raptures swell; 
High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentred all in self, 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung. 

Walter Scott, a wordslinger who could turn an immortal phrase or two ---

words which could be written in today specifically about
Mr. Trump and all his Swamp Predator appointees:

High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentred all in self, 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung. 

Fuck him and fuck all the self-indulgent angry assholes he rode in on, people whose intelligence -- if ever having been present before -- was diminished in inverse proportion to the amount of anger they allowed themselves to enjoy.

Even as -- I admit it -- I am allowing my own anger to make me even dumber than I usually am.