You probably remember Percy Shelley’s famous 19th century poem of this name. Even if you don’t remember all the lines (I certainly don’t), you most likely remember its message – in time everything turns to dust. No matter one’s deeds, accomplishments, fame, or creations, everything is transitory. Everything is ephemeral no matter how exalted one believes themselves to be.
Trump is a latter-day Ozymandias – full of himself, self-congratulatory, and self-promoting. He’s a boastful, arrogant nitwit whose actual accomplishments are almost nonexistent. But, like Ozymandias, he seems to believe that his legacy will endure – bringing lesser souls, like you and me, to our knees in awe of his greatness. Bullshit!
This Ozymandias will be a flash in the pan – forgotten as soon as he is convicted, or he dies – whichever comes to him first. He will be forgotten in a fortnight, once his following realizes that there is no future for him, I predict. If there is to be an enduring image of him in the Smithsonian or the White House, it should be an image of him seated at a grand piano with a scantily clothed Melania Trump astride the piano’s cover. It would be an enduring reminder of the lurid vulgarity of this crime family.
Bigly