What a difference a few weeks can make.
Harris is ascendant after selecting Walz as VP, the Democratic convention, and a party finally daring to exhale and go low. Trump is descendant after a bizarre assassination attempt, the vapid selection of a running mate seemingly found amidst couch cushions, and perhaps the growing realizations that he has a sentencing hearing in September, his crowds are not quite the crowds they once were, and criticism of age turns out to be a double-edged sword.
Harris might win, which I’d like, but Trump has too much to lose this time, and too many blind followers, to allow for a clean win either way the vote actually goes. The contested presidential election of 2000 will look civil.
No one knows exactly how it will fall out, but I think the election of 1860, the following events of April 1861, and more recently, January 2021, contain some hard lessons that many historians have endeavored to distill into a simple precipitate. My hope is that the worst of it will be pitiful and amateur, like the Business Plot or the failed plan to kidnap Gretchen Whitmer, showcasing the hard limits of conspiracy rather than the soft limits of evil.
Ukraine decided to go on the offensive in Kursk and has had success, even as a corresponding bulge forms in the Donbas. Relying on Russia to run out of bodies has never proved a winning strategy, so I’m not surprised at the attempt at a tack. Nevertheless, the long prelude to World War 3 continues. It won’t end soon or well.
But it’s only been a few weeks since I commented last, which is nothing, historically, and in other news, an insignificant speck of a planet continues to revolve about a backwater sun. Best estimates suggest it will suffice to house its current inhabitants for another billion years or so, assuming they don’t raze its surface to a cinder in the meantime. Either way, after its rather brief and bothersome “life” period, the planet itself will be toast after the star transitions to its red giant phase, another three and half billion years later.
For someone made of stardust and water, and only then for the briefest of cosmological moments, I am feeling my age lately.