While I do try to keep up on politics, I have not followed any of the House impeachment hearings. Obviously, I haven’t written about them either. At home I have a shelf of classic children’s stories that explains my nonchalance.
The Little Engine That Could tells the story of a train loaded with fruits and vegetables, toys and books that cannot make it up a steep mountain incline. Forced to stop, it pleads with other locomotives passing by for help so that the children on the other side of the mountain will have what they need. Along comes an arrogant train, a down-in-the-mouth train and others who refuse the small train’s supplications. Finally, a small engine comes along and is moved by the plight of the toy clowns and stuffed dolls. Repeating the mantra, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,” the engine’s dedication and devotion to the task at hand allow it, despite its small stature, to pull the train over the mountain.
As praiseworthy as the train might be, and as much as I may have read the story countless times in the hopes of teaching the importance of persistence to my children, people can be dedicated and devoted to wrong causes as well. Since election night 2016, many Democrats have remained single-minded in their resolution to get rid of President Trump by means other than electoral. The facts, the truth, precedents and reality have little to do with their constant impeachment mantra, “We think we can, we think we can, we think we can.”
This leads to another favorite read-aloud, The Emperor’s New Clothes. Here, the king and his courtiers and eventually the entire town are duped by two charlatans pretending to weave and sew magnificent royal garments. In fact, they are pocketing the riches they have been paid and that were intended for luxurious fabric and precious jewels. To avoid detection, these frauds explain that only high-quality people can see the clothes; they are invisible to others. Finally, as the king parades his “new garments” before the town while actually wearing only his underwear, a small child shouts out, “The Emperor is naked!” The courtiers at major media outlets have been genuflecting before Democrat Party shills since Mrs. Clinton lost. They may see this as proof of their brilliance, but the rest of us know that, in order to do, so they are rejecting all standards of reporting that used to make them worth reading. They are naked.
The Boy Who Cried Wolf would have been a wise choice for their reading lists. The shepherd boy repeatedly yells “Wolf!” when no actual threat to his flock exists. After the townspeople come to his aid over and over again, only to discover that he has been mocking them all along, they learn their lesson. In his case, when the menacing wolf eventually does appear, no one pays attention to his cries. President Trump’s activities vis vis the Ukraine may or may not be critically problematic. I highly doubt it, but I have no inside information. However, at this point, I have stopped listening to the media’s cries. They have no integrity left with which to command my attention.
Dedicated and devoted individuals and groups can, indeed, cause much damage. They need to be guarded against and opposed. However, I don’t need to treat their arguments as worthy of analysis. If I am interested in fairy tales, the brothers Grimm are less scary than Adam Schiff – and far more entertaining.