What could go wrong in 2016? Plenty.
By Eugene Robinson Opinion writer December 31, 2015, WashPost
You probably noticed that 2015 was pretty weird. But hey, it’s a brand-new year — a fresh start, a blank slate, an unwritten script. In 2016, what could possibly go wrong?
Uh, where to begin?
My fingers balk at typing the words “President-elect Trump” because I don’t think such a thing will actually happen. But at this point I’m wondering how to justify ruling anything out.
A year ago, was there anyone on earth who predicted that Donald Trump would utterly dominate the Republican presidential race? That the boastful billionaire would be setting the nation’s political agenda? That Jeb Bush, armed with more campaign money than he could possibly spend, would be drifting helplessly toward the single-digit wings of the crowded debate stage?
Nobody saw this coming, least of all the GOP establishment grandees who, as I wrote in August, are working their way through Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief. First there was denial (“What a weird dream; maybe it was something we ate”), then anger (“He’s a clown, he’s a jerk, he should be drawn and quartered”), then bargaining (“Okay, okay, we give up on immigration reform”). Now party elders seem to be sinking into the fourth stage, depression.
(More here.)
You probably noticed that 2015 was pretty weird. But hey, it’s a brand-new year — a fresh start, a blank slate, an unwritten script. In 2016, what could possibly go wrong?
Uh, where to begin?
My fingers balk at typing the words “President-elect Trump” because I don’t think such a thing will actually happen. But at this point I’m wondering how to justify ruling anything out.
A year ago, was there anyone on earth who predicted that Donald Trump would utterly dominate the Republican presidential race? That the boastful billionaire would be setting the nation’s political agenda? That Jeb Bush, armed with more campaign money than he could possibly spend, would be drifting helplessly toward the single-digit wings of the crowded debate stage?
Nobody saw this coming, least of all the GOP establishment grandees who, as I wrote in August, are working their way through Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief. First there was denial (“What a weird dream; maybe it was something we ate”), then anger (“He’s a clown, he’s a jerk, he should be drawn and quartered”), then bargaining (“Okay, okay, we give up on immigration reform”). Now party elders seem to be sinking into the fourth stage, depression.
(More here.)
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