when my mom got dementia, she no longer recognized me.

[Javaman]

prior to her slipping into dementia, she and I had this great relationship of cracking each other up. She loved to laugh and crack jokes or make funny snide remarks. She had one hell of a wit.

And she loved music. Most of all Artie Shaw.

but here is the thing with her dementia, she wouldn't know who I was when I would go visit her. She would say, "you look so familiar, I know you from somewhere". It was heartbreaking.

but then, I would crack a joke and she would get it. not only get it, but she would shoot back with a quick retort. and we'd start cracking up and she would remember who I was. It was fascinating to witness.

Anytime I would play her Artie Shaw, she was back in the moment. and although frail, we would dance a very slow and deliberate Lindy.

Why do I bring this all up?

because this is what I think we are seeing with the orange pedo. there are things that trigger him that bring him into the present.

And what are those things? flattery, money, talking about building things; to name a few. Things that bring the demented fuck some sort of familiarity. Memories of "good times". I'm sure there also other things that are too disgusting to mention.

So when the fascists try and point out that he's "still on his game", that "game" is only a fleeting moment. his preening in front of a teleprompter is one of those fleeting moments.

what we are not seeing is what is happening what he vanishes for days.

My mom as she slipped further into dementia, would sometimes become violent, vulgar and downright nasty. And the sweet funny woman, that I once knew and would still bubble to the surface from time to time, slowly started to fade completely away until she was gone.

we are now witness to the orange pedo at one of these stages (it's different with everyone and to the degree). his various mood swings, his now very obvious vulgar out bursts, his moments of seemingly forgetting things are all signs my mom had.

I know for a fact my mom hated the trumps. she would regale me of stories of fred trump and his rat infested "cold water flats" in NY.

I'm glad she didn't have to live through this.