It didn't take long into February for the latest outrages to spew from the totalitarian moron's mouth; and the mouth didn't stop as the month progressed.  In the first full week of February he called the Democratic members of Congress who didn't applaud his State of the Union speech 'treasonous traitors!'  Even Joseph Stalin in his most paranoid moments would have blushed at the idea.  I'm reminded of scenes of high ranking uniformed North Koreans sweating as they profusely cheer and clap their Dear Leader, praying to holy Lenin that they appear intense enough to avoid being shot for treason.  And then the-man-who-never-served has demanded an American military parade to outdo Hitler's Reichstag extravaganzas, North Korea's fixed-bayonet goose-stepping hordes of starving soldiers, and Bastille Day in Paris.  What the hell, it would only cost a couple of million dollars to glorify his incompetence.

I mean, to hell with Readiness Training, and deploying troops around the world to kill terrorists, and all that serious stuff.  Lets just make highly trained troops practice marching back and forth for months in dress uniforms in order to gloriously pass in review, chins up, eyes right Russian style, for the President's pleasure.  Ya-Hoo!

Perhaps he could even persuade the Republican Congress to pass a law requiring elected Democrats to lead the parade wearing North Korean uniforms, clapping furiously!  An active duty service member wrote into a major mainstream newspaper saying, "If you want to honor us, give us the f....n day off!"  Essentially, if you look at history, only dictators hold huge military parades.

If you've ever served, you know what 'putting on a show' for the brass means.  It means getting up a 4 AM, being lined up in crackerjack uniform perfection by 7 AM, standing around for hours, until finally the scrambled eggs and gold braid walk past without really looking, and then you march away and go back to work having lost two hours sleep.

When I was in the Navy, around 1970, there was to be a major 'inspection' by an admiral, perhaps the CNO himself.  Five thousand sailors were lined up in crackerjack crisp snow white uniforms on a huge freshly cut great lawn, standing in the hot summer sun on a squishy damp layer of cut grass.  At long last the admiral's big bulky Vietnam Era SR 70 helicopter could be heard in the distance, growing louder and louder until it arched overhead and landed on the great lawn within yards of the front row of ranks and ranks of sailors standing at attention.  Suddenly everyone knew what was going to happen, but no one moved a micron; we were 'at attention' and at attention you don't move, period.  Every single damp cut blade of billions of blades of grass went airborne flying like a swarm all over every single crisp white uniform on five thousand men, turning them and their white dixie cup hats dirty green.  No one moved.  A band, also smeared green, struck up a jaunty patriotic military tune.  It wasn't clear, from where we were standing at attention, at what point the Admiral realized what a huge fuck-up his arrival had caused.  Maybe someone in his entourage, desperately chocking back laughter, had to quietly explain to him what had inadvertently happened when his helicopter landed.  The band continued to play, green mulch flying out of the tubas, and the inspection proceeded as if nothing had happened; they just pretended that five thousand uniforms had not been ruined.  My bell bottomed trousers had been tailored tight enough so that you could tell my religion; yet were still regulation.  The entourage quick step marched past the rows and rows of sailors.  But a Lieutenant Commander towards the rear of the entourage was actually looking at people, he stopped in front of me.  I held my breath in order to remain rock steady and not flinch, hands at my sides, totally symmetrical.  He looked me up and down and said, "You're left handed."  It wasn't a question, so I kept my mouth shut, eyes straight forward.  I knew how he knew.  I wanted to shout, "How Fucking RUDE!"  He knew because he could see which side my pecker was hanging in my tight tailored pants!  Bloody Hell!  As they moved onward, I wanted to shout after him, "You just dropped your beads Mary!"  But, of course, I just let out my breath silently and didn't move a micron.  I have no idea who the hell that asshole was.  But, nearly 50 years later, I still feel like I was violated by his having ogled my seaman's privates.  From the inside, that's what military parades and inspections are all about; just forced misery for those on display.

In the same week of this past February, there was the indictment of 13 Russians for interfering with the 2016 election.  The president's reaction?  "There See!! NO collusion!"  Not a word about outrage over foreign interference nor disenchantment with his bromance with the Tsar.  WTF?  Stone Deaf!

In mid February, 17 people were shot dead in a Florida high school by a deranged former student.  The president's and his party's reaction?  "Thoughts and Prayers," but not a single word about banning guns.  No, No; we must continue to sacrifice lives for the liberty lunatics' right to own military combat assault weapons.  Our leader and his party even used the massacre of innocent children to claim that calls for gun control were "politicizing a tragedy," as if they weren't the ones doing that.  Then he had the nerve to show up at the scene of the martyrdom to grandstand for photo ops of himself grinning from ear to ear standing with the local constabulary.  After that, a leisurely half hour drive to his golf resort to party.  This is what you call 'Stone Deaf!'