A Little Party

I don't usually scribe on a Sunday but today I have beef and it's not roast beef. I honestly don't think I could. And here's why.

Originally trialled in 1939 to distribute an excess of agricultural produce (yes an excess) to mostly white Americans at the tail end of the great depression, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) was officially launched by President Johnson in 1964, building on a commitment already made by JFK. That's enough of the history lesson.

Yesterday, over 40 million already cash strapped Americans had their food benefits removed. Just. Like. That. SNAP.

Meanwhile, following on from a lavish, steak with all the trimmings dinner for his cronies who wouldn't know poverty if it punched them in the face, on the ghastly courtyard that has replaced Edith Roosevelt's rose garden, Trump just had to go one step further. It appears it just wasn't enough to concrete over more than 100 years of history, he was hell bent on celebrating an historical era made famous for bourgeois hedonism and gangsters.

In a move that Nicholas the Great and his Empress Catherine of Russia would have applauded, while 'peasants' across that great land starved to death, orange man decided to throw a party. Not just any party, but a Hallowe'en extravaganza of epic proportions, hosting wrinkly folks poured into 1920s glad rags and entertained by barely dressed dancers (nothing to see here, Andy). Fine dining, washed down by as much champers as they could quaff in the name of Gatsby put self-satisfied smirks on the faces of all the guests, not in the least their host, who grinned like a malevolent Cheshire Cat. Whether it was him (doubtful, too many words) or one of his arse-licking minions who came up with the official 'theme' for the night, I have no idea, but it demonstrated a lack of empathy and sensitivity that beggars belief.

'A Little Party Never Killed Nobody.'

Well, ain't that a shame.