The day many could not imagine has arrived. Donald Trump will be sworn into office for the second time. Voters don’t have the excuses they did in 2016. They knew who he was, what he believed in, and what he was capable of doing. Now all of us will experience the consequences of electing an autocrat surrounded by a flock of flunkies who are as devoid of ethics, decency, empathy, and expertise as Trump is. We did not simply elect an autocrat; we chose, as a nation, to usher in an oligarchy—the likes of which we have not seen since the Gilded Age.
At most inaugurations, the incoming president makes every effort to put the American people first—from ordinary citizen to heroes—and to reach out to Americans from all backgrounds and walks of life. Jimmy Carter’s inauguration is best remembered for his decision to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue to show he intended “to make the president available for all citizens and to breathe new life into the presidency,” according to historian and author William Seale. The Clinton-Gore inauguration in 1993 kicked off with “’50 Faces of Hope,’ a reunion of “people from all walks of life, including physicians, a baker, a Vietnam veteran and a Massachusetts teacher who's HIV positive,” who met and were inspired by the campaign, according to a news report from the time. The inauguration carried through the campaign theme of “putting people first.” President Obama in 2009 retraced Abraham Lincoln’s inaugural train journey to D.C., drawing crowds that reflected America’s economic, racial and ethnic diversity. (Once in D.C., the Obama family participated in public service projects.) And just four years ago, Tony Allen, the head of the Biden inaugural committee explained: “The inaugural activities will reflect our shared values and serve as a reminder that we are stronger together than we are apart, just as our motto, ‘E pluribus unum,’ reminds us — out of many one.’”
Even Republicans, once upon a time, showcased their devotion to average Americans. Ronald Reagan in his first inaugural address heralded the heroes among us — “men and women who raise our food, patrol our streets, man our mines and factories, teach our children, keep our homes, and heal us when we’re sick — professionals, industrialists, shopkeepers, clerks, cabbies, and truckdrivers.” He went on: “They are, in short, ‘We the people,’ this breed called Americans.” Sounding unlike any Republican today, Reagan declared, “How can we love our country and not love our countrymen; and loving them, reach out a hand when they fall, heal them when they’re sick, and provide opportunity to make them self-sufficient so they will be equal in fact and not just in theory?”
The American people certainly will not be front and center at Trump’s inauguration. It’s all about him and his billionaire cronies, including the media owners who have buckled to his will. “Big-name billionaires are lining up to strengthen their relationships with incoming President Donald Trump during next week's inauguration festivities, as top dogs like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and more are expected to turn up in Washington, D.C.,” Forbes reported. When you add in TikTok CEO Shou Chew, Mark Zuckerberg, and Apple’s Tim Cook—whose combined wealth dwarfs many countries’ GDP’s—you get a vivid tableau of the new oligarchy. We usher into office today a government of, by, and for the billionaires.
All inaugurations include glitzy balls but Zuckerberg’s ball—to be attended by a slew of other billionaires (e.g., Miriam Adelson, Tilman Fertitta, Todd Ricketts) takes the cake. And, in case you had any doubt that money buys access, “Donors who gave $1 million, or raised $2 million from others, were reportedly given “six tickets to a series of events in the days leading up to the inauguration, including a ‘candlelight dinner’ with Trump and Melania Trump and a black-tie ball,” The Wall Street Journal reported. Somehow you just cannot picture Carter (whom MAGA fanatics refused to honor with continued display of flags at half-mast) hanging out with this crowd.
The incoming Cabinet is stuffed with more billionaires. And all but three Cabinet-level appointees are white, so it’s safe to say that representing America or even pretending to do so is not front of mind for the incoming administration. Moreover, Trump has “assembled one of the wealthiest administrations in history—turning to nearly a dozen people worth at least $1 billion (on their own or combined with their spouses’ assets)—to oversee the nation’s policies and represent the US overseas as ambassadors,” CNN reported. Trump remains the MAGA figurehead, the great propagandist and instigator of resentment, fear, and anger. But it’s the billionaires who will operate the levers of power, making decisions that surely will not make the “little guy” a priority. (An agenda calling for tax cuts for billionaires, deregulation of industry, slashing of social services and entitlements, and consumer trade taxes—also known as tariffs—that disproportionately hit the less-well-off should put to rest the notion that Republicans stand for economic populism.)
The unethical marriage of economic and political power in a tight clique of billionaires makes this as much their inauguration as it is Trump’s. The New Yorker’s cover cartoon depicts the new president taking the oath, but Musk is literally pushing Trump out of the frame. Musk’s hand dwarfs Trump’s on the bible. Billionaire Musk, who despises worker-empowering unions (“I disagree with the idea of unions … I just don’t like anything which creates a lords and peasants sort of thing”) is now arguably the most powerful man in the country. He may not have the title of president, but the man who spent hundreds of millions to elect Trump and controls a social media platform that manipulates the masses and spreads disinformation in a nanosecond will not easily be displaced.
Musk may be better at blowing up things (budget deals, rockets) than any presidential puppet master to date. However, his most destructive ambition may be to destroy the conceit that “we the people” hold power and that the government is accountable to them. Social scientist and author Bob Putnam has pointed out that the Gilded Age ended only when a spirit of progressive reform “began in ordinary small towns in the middle of America and then spread from there.” Simply put, we cannot wait for someone else to bring Trump, Musk, Zuckerberg, and their ilk to heel. Putnam reminded us: “What we learned from [the Gilded Age] is that history is not determined by something outside. We think that the critical factor is really citizen agency—that the choices that individual people make will, in fact, determine whether we end up on one path or another.” He urged: “Don’t be cynical. Don’t think that this is all determined by somebody else. Working with others, you can make a difference because people exactly like you, people of the same age as you, changed things the last time.”
Our task to recapture democracy begins in earnest today.
Never forget, there are more of us "poor" people than there are billionaires. There is power in our numbers.
Today is starting out so much HARDER than I expected.
Later, on Mixtape on the Titanic: Mourning in America (A Nation Lost in the Sauce)
Verse 1:
Well, the ballots came down like a funeral toll,
And they crowned the king of the rigged loophole.
Felonies, scandals—swept away,
Wrapped in a flag like a cheap display.
They traded their souls for a red-hat lie,
And left the dream of a nation to die.
(And the eulogy's written in ALL CAPS...)
Chorus:
It’s mourning in America, the stars look dim,
A grifter’s back, and they worship him.
They burn it all, they cheer, they pray,
For a fraud who can't spell "USA."
(But hey, the merch sales are strong!)
Verse 2:
Science packed its bags and left the room,
While QAnon whispers spin their doom.
Truth’s out back with a for-sale sign,
Justice took a bribe and joined the line.
They chant “Lock him up!” at the wrong damn guy,
While autocracy waves as democracy dies.
(Freedom’s just another word… till it’s gone.)
Bridge:
A kingdom built on grievance and spin,
Where facts don’t matter if you yell and grin.
Three branches bow to one man’s thirst,
Turns out the Constitution’s not bulletproof—
Just paper, and it burns the worst.
(Smells like patriotism… or maybe just smoke.)
Verse 3:
But we’re not gonna bow, sit down, or kneel,
This ain’t a damn episode of “The Art of the Deal.”
Hope’s not dead, it’s just reloading,
Our love’s still real, and it’s overflowing.
We’ll fight with joy, with laughter, with grit,
While they choke on their tantrums, we’ll never quit.
(And we don't need a golden toilet to feel rich.)
Final Chorus:
It’s mourning in America, but hope ain't gone,
We're singing loud, and we’re singing strong.
They’ll burn it down, they’ll laugh, they’ll cheer,
But we’re the ones who persevere.
(And we won’t let them write our epitaph.)
Outro (spoken, sarcastic):
"Breaking news! America’s officially been sold
To the highest bidder with the biggest bankroll!
Act now and get your ‘Democracy NFT’—
For just $19.99 plus your dignity!"
(Cue the tiny violin... and a tax break for billionaires.)