If it were possible, I'd have Perry Mason voted in as President, and be done with it -- even though the intellectual giants on the right would no doubt fear Perry's last name, and start up a whirlwind of vaprous Illuminati rumors.
With Perry, there would be no lack of adjectives describing his countless strengths, for any slogans and logos: Infallible, fair, energetic, driven, brilliant, supremely knowledgeable, not easily outwitted, modest, humane -- the litany could go on like that for days.
Perry, though. Not Raymond Burr, mind you, even if that fine actor were still with us, but Perry Mason, the character we saw portrayed on The One-Eyed Know-It-All which invaded American households so long ago.
(I could easily see Della as VP -- no one else was as crisply efficient, warmly interpersonal, or as knowing of the mind of Mason any better. Tragg and Burger? Maybe the AG's office or DOJ. Paul would likely end up at the FBI, maybe the CIA, the DIA, the XYQZW...)
In these dog days of August, and these psychodrama-daze of 2016 national politics, there is lots to wonder about. And, I find myself wondering about them an awful lot.
One thing I wonder is how it is anyone ever treated Donald Trump like an actual political candidate. The man was a fluff-headed, self-aggrandizing, ill-adjusted buffoon with social and psychiatric issues from the outset. He has only gotten worse sense he started -- either pushed in that direction or else his own mental state has been allowed to slip the leash and meander its own demonically-merry way.
On Monday, August 6, 1945, after six months of intense firebombing of 67 other Japanese cities,...
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