When I entered the Academy in 1947, every fall freshmen were initiated into the Siam Club. By the light of a bonfire, the dean was carried in perched on a litter, disguised in gown and turban, heralded as the “Grand Bamboozler.” Then he led us frosh in the secret chant of “Oh-wah… ta-nah… Si-am!” We repeated the chant, first slowly, then faster, until someone finally got what we were saying: “Oh what an ass I am!”

Now we have a new Grand Bamboozler on his way to the White House. He’s finished leading us in chants of “Build the wall!” and “Lock her up!” and now he’s lining up his close advisers and choices for his Cabinet. He promised he would “drain the swamp” and make a clean break with business as usual in Washington. His West Wing has a lot of new faces, all right, but they come from the same old places. It looks like a crew of experienced insiders from the hard right and business and finance, and they’re mostly newcomers to government, like their boss. They could be as easy to manipulate as a term-limited legislature, but they can do a lot of damage.

Since we can’t agree on facts any more, we keep busy following our favorite tweets, or likes, or websites, or cable channels, while our republic loses its way. The Grand Bamboozler keeps distracting us with side issues (Hamilton cast, flag-burning) so we don’t pay attention to what’s really going on.

I’m afraid the millions who voted for Trump, and those who voted for him after they gave up on Obama, are headed for one more big letdown.

Charles Ferguson

Vassalboro

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