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Tim Coffey's avatar

I don't know who said it, but someone described ICE as people who are too chickenshit to join the military and too stupid to be cops.

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Patrick | Complex Simplicity's avatar

If we were living inside a functioning democracy, Trump never would have been elevated in the first place. Not because the electorate is virtuous, or wise, or immune to demagoguery, but because democracies are not built on trust in human goodness. They are built on mistrust. On friction. On deliberately engineered resistance. Institutions exist to absorb shock, to filter out pathological actors, to slow the conversion of mass impulse into sovereign power.

If we had a functioning justice system, he would be in prison. Not as a moral spectacle, not as a cathartic act of political revenge, but as the dull, procedural consequence of law encountering evidence and proceeding without fear.

If we had a functioning Supreme Court, he would have been ruled ineligible. The constitutional prohibitions were neither novel nor obscure. They were explicit, historical, and designed for precisely this scenario. The guardrails did not erode through ambiguity; they were dismantled through willful non-enforcement. Law did not fail because it was unclear. It failed because it was inconvenient.

If we had a functioning Congress, he would have been removed. Again and again. Not after solemn speeches or strategic delays, but decisively, without ritualized handwringing. Impeachment did not collapse under the weight of insufficient evidence. It collapsed under the cowardice of legislators who understood the consequences and chose personal survival over institutional survival. What died in those chambers was not procedure, but legitimacy.

In a healthy political system, one individual cannot inflict this much damage, or distort reality this thoroughly. The fact that he could, and did, is the diagnosis. Trump is not the disease. He is the symptom made visible. The real emergency is not the man. It is the hollowed-out architecture that was supposed to stop him, and instead stepped aside.

Against that backdrop, arguing about masks feels almost obscene, and yet the mask controversy is instructive, a kind of moral MRI. The same cohort that howled about personal liberty when asked to wear a mask to protect the vulnerable now insists on anonymity as a prerequisite for inflicting harm. The pivot is flawless. The logic is airtight in its cynicism. It was never about freedom. It was never about safety. It was about insulation. About severing action from consequence. About exercising force without leaving fingerprints.

This is not a debate over fabric. It is a referendum on accountability. Masks here are not protective equipment; they are instruments of moral laundering. They erase the face, and with it the burden of ownership. They convert state power into something feral and deniable, something that can be disowned the moment it becomes inconvenient.

What we are witnessing is not polarization. It is epistemic collapse. The abandonment of any shared, verifiable reality in favor of narrative allegiance. A nation in which vast numbers of people no longer ask whether a thing is true, only whether it sounds good, whether it arrives wrapped in the correct emotional cadence, whether it flatters grievance and sanctifies cruelty. Facts became optional. Truth became factional. Reality itself is demoted to an aesthetic choice, curated to preserve identity rather than describe the world.

This is how democracies don’t fall with tanks in the streets, but with language quietly unmoored from meaning. With accountability rendered optional. With power detached from names, faces, and consequences. When authority wears a mask long enough, it forgets it ever had a face, and when a society stops insisting that power be seen, identified, and answerable, democracy doesn’t collapse in a single, cinematic moment. It hollows out. It becomes a costume. A word we keep using long after the thing itself has slipped the leash.

Masks are incidental. The disappearance underneath them is the point.

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