My temptation, my first instinct, would be to suddenly interrupt one of his inane harangues, to storm off the stage while the cameras
were running and in front of God and everybody, to shout out what nonsense he is spouting and
to humiliate and discredit him as much as possible.

On the other hand, how many lives would that save, how much of their influence and ability to
sway him would be lost? And would it only encourage his more sycophantic followers to rise up to take my place,
and for his mindless minions to close ranks and make it even harder to control him?

And what about Trump? Perhaps he realizes, even if only subconsciously, that he doesn't know what he's
doing and that he is helpless to curb his impulses to spout such garbage intermittently. What if he
is perfectly aware of his own shortcomings and realizes how he needs these critics to curb his own irrationality?
Perhaps that is why he hasn't fired them. Deep down inside, perhaps he knows he needs them, even when his every instinct is that they must be disloyal traitors and enemies.

There's another Edgar Allan Poe story playing out here, "The Imp of the Perverse", about how our self-destructive
instincts can take over, even while we're perfectly aware of them and doing everything we can to control them.

For their part, what takes more courage, to stay on the job and do the best you can to help your country
even if it means sacrificing your own professional reputation and personal dignity? Or, alternatively, to just shout out "FUCK THIS SHIT", storm off the stage, quit, salvage your career as best you can and go write a NYT best-seller about your time in the snake pit.

Every morning my clock radio alarm goes off at 7 AM to National Public Radio and I wake up to a solid hour
of detailed journalistic documentation on how my civilization is unraveling about me. My wife storms out of bed because she can't bear to hear any more of it.
Its goddam Greek tragedy.