Friday, January 16, 2026

Never Give Your Opponent the Battle He Seeks

Look for an Asymmetric Response

Nelson Rockefeller interacting with constituents, 1976.

Turning the other cheek is not a strategy that young men, well-fueled with testosterone, are likely to find appealing. 

There is another way that does not play into the enemy's hands: The asymmetric response. 

At the battle of Cannae in 216 BC, Hannibal responded to the frontal attack from the Romans by outflanking them on both flanks. This approach was replicated at the battle of Cowpens during the American revolution.

Responding to a frontal assault with your own frontal assault sends you against your enemy's strongest point.

In this context, our goal in Minneapolis should be pin the enemy's main force by holding the line and harassing him at every opportunity. One thought: A wildcat strike at certain hotels might force those hotels to shut down.

The counterattack needs to come elsewhere. I see two main avenues: the Epstein files and the Affordable Care Act. Both of these should converge as demands during the upcoming government shutdown. And we should be advertising that right now, and widely. The dilly-dallying about whether we're going to shut down the government has got to go away right now. The message needs to go to the people holding the line in Minneapolis: You have Trump pinned, his numbers are cratering, even Republican senators who aren't up for reelection are looking fondly at the exit signs. Hang on: We're going to get the Epstein info out no matter what. The ACA subsidies will come back. And ICE will go back to their barracks and stay there. You owe this to the people fighting on the front line.

There are other issues, like impeaching corrupt judges. I do not understand why Democratic consultants insist that the people cannot walk and chew gum at the same time. These are all components of an overall strategy to kill fascism in this country for once and all. They are related and can be explained in a clear, logical way.

And frankly, it would give more variety to the chants we use when we're marching. I'm actually getting a little tired of Whose streets? Our streets! I think the people of Minneapolis should be chanting, in addition to Ice Out Now, something very simple like Epstein! And maybe something a bit more subtle, like Trump Finger-Flipper!

Rockefeller never did live down the bird he flipped in Binghamton, N.Y. People talk about it less, now. But it's still in living memory.

See also The Democrats Need to Fight the War, How the Dam Breaks, Circling the Drain, J'Accuse!

Sunday, January 11, 2026

It Was Wet. We Were Angry.

Rally for Venezuela and a Few Other Things

Philadelphia city hall.

Hands Off Venezuela!

No Ice, No KKK, No Fascist USA!

Workers of the World, Unite!

General Strike! (I'm quite partial to that one.)

No Justice, No Peace!

Whose Streets? Our Streets!

Fuck Ice!

Fuck Ice!


On Saturday, January 10, it rained in Philadelphia. On Thursday, I had received an email from the Philadelphia branch of the Democratic Socialists of America, inviting me to yet another rally at city hall, this one to object to the situation in Venezuela. On Saturday morning, I was half-expecting a cancellation notice, but instead my wife, who is much better connected to the resistance than I am, began receiving messages about a number of morning rallies and marches. It all seemed about as clear as mud, and the view out my window was just getting wetter. I decided to follow the initial guidance, and walked over to city hall for a 1 pm start.


It was in the 40s, with light wind and a steady drizzle that had started in mid-morning and just kept going all day. What my grandfather the dairy farmer used to call a good, soaking rain - one that would generally go into the soil rather than running off.

When I turned the corner of city hall onto the north apron, I could see that the party was already in full swing, and very soon after my arrival we started forming up for a march. I was a little surprised by that - my invitation hadn't mentioned a march - but what the hey. Part of the earlier chatter had been about a march down Market and up 7th to the federal detention center. And it turned out that that was our route.

Market street.

The group that rallied and marched was much smaller than the group at Thursday's rally (see They'll Kill Anybody for No Reason); I would say about 200, compared to more than 1,000 (my estimates). And it was a gathering of the left. DSA was the sponsor; the communists were also there in numbers.

As we were walking down Market, I fell behind a bit, and fell into conversation with one of the members of the rear guard. She informed me that there were a bunch of cosponsors for the rally while she tried to maneuver me forward to the main body so the police officers behind us would not have to speak sternly to me. 

Later, in front of the federal jail, there was another rally, so I got my full dose of speeches. One lady was quite miffed that Mumia is still in prison. I also learned that there were, I believe, 32 cosponsors of the rally, including many organizations that I had never heard of. If you go out and keep your ears open you can learn new things.

Federal detention center.

I think the rally-march-rally formally ended at the federal pokey. There was what I think might be called an aftermarch, which walked west on Arch and eventually turned north into Chinatown. These folks were apparently concerned about something in the Philippines. (It turns out the people there are unhappy about corruption. Throw in Iran and a few other things, and I'm beginning to think 2026 may turn into 1968.)

I walked with the group until they turned north into Chinatown, and then I walked up Arch to the Reading Terminal Market to warm up. Drying off happened after I got home.


I think I need to say something about the communists. They come to all the rallies, and they're very nice, and they speak their minds. They don't like the Democratic party very much. Usually they're massively outnumbered by non-communist rally-goers; on this day they bulked larger, and they certainly had a big banner. 

I know Mike Bloomberg gets the vapors whenever anybody utters the word socialist in his presence. He is an oligarch, after all. We may see him as generally a good oligarch, but all oligarchs alway want to be in control. I have no idea what would happen if the word communist was uttered in his presence.

I have news for the limousine liberals. While you were at your getaway in Southampton or Tahoe, relaxing after a tough week talking to people who are always nice to you, the socialists and the communists showed up in the rain, and marched and speechified for hours. What happened? They bonded.

If you're serious about winning our current fight with the fascists, you need the socialists and the communists. These guys show up. You're going to need that.


See also Slam Dunk in Philly, Message for the Mad King, On the Art Museum StepsSomotomoNo King, No Clown!

Thursday, January 8, 2026

They'll Kill Anybody for No Reason

ICE in Minnesota 

Another day, another rally at City Hall. It's working.

Am I being wishful, or do you think even a Proud Boy might be able to see that the Minnesota Death Trip we're all looking at is the death of MAGA.

Well, maybe not a Proud Boy. But the rest of us seem to be pretty angry.

Trump is incoherent. Stephen Miller may be the only competent member of the administration; he's done his reading, and he know he's failed to close the deal quickly enough, and now the tide has turned.

This morning my wife got a message from Indivisible, inviting her to yet another rally in front of Philadelphia's city hall at 5 pm. I received the same message from Philadelphia Neighborhood Networks. 

We went. I estimated the crowd between one and two thousand. We mourned Renee Nicole Good. And I think we mourned for America. But it was an angry mourning. Many of these people have been fighting for a while. Some of them, like me, may be tired. But the strength is still there, and a resolve that only hardens with each new atrocity.

I wouldn't want to be Stephen Miller right now.

See also The Significance of a Stroll, Unleashing the Oligarchs.

Tuesday, January 6, 2026

What Happened to the Chestnut Street Transitway

Swimming Against the Tide


1. Buses go two ways on the Chestnut street transitway, 1978.

In 1959 city planner Ed Bacon wrote an essay in which he imagined, among other things, what Chestnut street in Center City Philadelphia would look like during the fair in the bicentennial year of 1976. Here you go: 

"But the great attraction will be the open-sided electric cars with their striped awnings that go up and down the length of Chestnut Street, which has been relieved of automobiles to provide enough room for the visitors to the Fair. Chestnut Street is the backbone of the Fair, connecting the historic areas with the main part of the Exposition that extends up both banks of the Schuylkill River from Convention Hall to Memorial Hall in Fairmount Park. It has become the Midway where the visitors spend their money for food, drinks, mementos and all the various necessities and frivolities that go with such an event, rather than in some temporary, soon to be removed bazaar. 

"Some of the stores have removed their front windows and carry on outdoor activities, loggia-like half in and half out of the building. Sidewalk cafes and outdoor bazaars add a festive atmosphere." (Scott Gabriel Knowles, ed., Imagining Philadelphia: Edmund Bacon and the Future of the City, 2009, pp. 1, 11-12.) 

2. Dreaming in color: Chestnut street transitway, 1974.

Needless to say, the bicentennial celebration in Philadelphia didn't look anything like this. The cute little electric-powered jitneys intended for people who wanted to explore the sights and shopping of the city's core were replaced with the usual suspects - a rampaging herd of standard-sized buses roaring and belching diesel fumes. And that was only one of the problems. 

The buses, however, were there for a reason. The federal government was willing to pay for a transitway, but it was not going to pay for a pedestrian shopping mall. 

Opening Day

So the buses were there to stay. After frantic construction ahead of the 1976 bicentennial, the transitway opened on November 24, 1975. The next day, Howard S. Shapiro reported on the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer: "As prominent city officials and business leaders gathered at a podium at Broad and Chestnut Streets to praise the transitway as a boon to center city transportation and shopping, a monumental traffic jam was in progress." He went on: "The 40-minute ceremony - complete with a 180-piece marching band and drill team from Cardinal Dougherty High School, which ushered the first bus down the officially opened street - had brought noontime traffic, which is normally snail-paced, to a complete standstill." 

Shapiro also reported that the transitway, which extended between 8th and 18th streets, had cost $7 million, 80 percent of which was paid by the U.S. Urban Mass Transportation Administration. He further noted that Chestnut street merchants were very happy that the transitway had opened: "Merchants had feared that the streets would remain barricaded through the busy Christmas shopping season, which begins this week. ..." 

"Many merchants along Chestnut Street breathed a sigh of relief yesterday. Although most believe that the transitway's wide sidewalks, comfortable ambiance and convenient bus transit will attract more shoppers to center city, construction of the project has generally hampered business since May." 

From that point the transitway was, slowly, over many years, modified until it became the street we can see today. The original design was for two lanes of buses, one eastbound and one westbound. In the end there are two eastbound traffic lanes. One of the traffic lanes is supposed to be for buses and bicycles. There is also a parking lane. The sidewalks, which had been widened, have been narrowed. 

1987 Evaluation

The transitway has proved itself to be perennially controversial. 

In 1985, the City decided to conduct an evaluation of the almost ten-year-old transitway. In 1987 a report was issued with the title Chestnut Street Transitway Management Study Executive Study.  I found this document at Philadelphia's City Archives, 548 Spring Garden Street, in a box numbered A-12900. 

The report observes that, in its 1985 state, cars and trucks were not entirely banned from the transitway. Most notably, delivery trucks were permitted, with a permit, between 9:30 a.m. and 4 p.m. and between 7 p.m. and 7 a.m. Bicyclists were prohibited at all times. (P. 2.) 

There were a lot of buses, from both Septa and New Jersey Transit. The most heavily traveled section was between 7th and Broad streets, where on a typical weekday about 1,100 buses were passing through. (P. 2.)  This number includes bus traffic in both directions, but still it strikes me as eye-popping. 

Ridership numbers were also impressive, with peak loads at midday and during the evening rush. "As many as 1,600 passengers were 'on-board'  within the 1500 block of the Transitway during both peak hours." (P. 2.) 

And the sidewalks were very popular. "Pedestrian counts indicate that some Transitway sidewalks are the most heavily used in Center City. A total of about 5,800 persons uses each of the sidewalks (i.e., the north side and the south side) in the 1500 block during the noontime lunch hour. This is double the count in the same block of Walnut Street during the same period. About 5,000 persons use each side of the 1100 block of the Transitway during the peak noontime hour. This is double the volume in the same block on Market Street and triple the pedestrian volume in the 1100 block on Walnut Street during the same hour." (P. 3.) 

Bus Operating Speeds

Let's have a closer look at bus operations. "It is interesting to note that bus operating speeds along the Transitway are about the same as those noted along Walnut Street (i.e., four to seven  mph) and general delay patterns in terms of both time and cause (e.g., 'serve passenger', traffic signal, etc.) are similar along both streets. In addition, bus operation along the Transitway appears to have no significant impact on reliability of service in terms of 'on-time' performance. Finally, SEPTA and others have expressed concern to the City relative to increased use of the Transitway by other vehicular traffic - particularly for loading and unloading activities - and the impact of this traffic on bus movement. There are occasions when one or even both lanes within a given block are occupied by parked vans/trucks."(P. 3.) 

No Loading Zones 

It took me a while to pick up on this. The basic conflict on the Chestnut street transitway was between a vision of Chestnut street as a pedestrian mall and a vision of Chestnut street as a traffic sewer for buses - something like the Holland tunnel that extends under the Hudson river from Jersey City, N.J., to Manhattan in New York city, only with no roof, and for buses only. I assumed that the buses had won. I was wrong. There was no winner. We did not get a satisfactory pedestrian mall, and we did not get a satisfactory traffic sewer. And the reason was the failure to provide for loading zones adjacent to the street. 

Many buildings along Chestnut street have rear access, on little streets with names like Ranstead and Ionic and Stock Exchange Place. But a number do not. (In 2017 I wrote a whole article about this. To see it, click here.) Stores do not, in general, make the products they sell in the store. They bring them from elsewhere, and they need to be able to unload the boxes of sweaters or blue jeans, or what have you, and bring the boxes into the store. Then they can open the boxes and put the sweaters out on display tables, or hang the winter parkas up on a rack. Not being able to unload is an existential threat to the business. If there is no rear access, there must be front access. 

And remember, the new Chestnut street transitway, inaugurated in 1975, had no parking lane to unload in. It appears that no provision was made for loading zones. So all front-side loading would have had to take place in the traffic lanes. I think I'm prepared to call this a serious design flaw. 

(I should add that the City and the Philadelphia Parking Authority now seem fully aware of the importance of loading on Chestnut street. On April 1, 2025, the parking authority even introduced a new system of Smart Loading Zones, with activity monitored by license plate readers. Unauthorized parking for more than three minutes results in a hefty fine.) 

3. 1900 block of Chestnut, 2025.

How Mr. Yaffa Felt in 1965

I'd like to go back from 1987 to 1965, ten years before the transitway opened. Although many Chestnut merchants were in favor of the proposed transitway, a number were not. One of them was Lawrence I. Yaffa,  who was president of B.F. Dewees, Inc. (He, and many others, were interviewed for a three-volume report entitled Report on a Study to Determine the Economic Feasibility of the Proposed Chestnut Street Mall. All three volumes were published in early 1966.  His statement was dated November 15, 1965, and may be found in volume 3 on page 119. I found the report at Philadelphia's City Archives, in a box numbered A-1613.)

"Mr. Yaffa is opposed to the pedestrian mall proposal for Chestnut Street. In his opinion, walking is a lost art in this country, therefore, the basic premise of the proposal is faulty. 

"Americans will not walk any distance - if they can see their destination from where they alight from transportation, they will walk to it - if they cannot see it, due to distance or obstructions, they will not walk to it. Mr. Yaffa says there is something psychological about this. 

"He does not want the busses taken off Chestnut Street - they stop at Dewees' door. In his opinion, people arriving on busses which terminate on Market Street, won't walk to Chestnut Street to board the proposed Chestnut Street transport. 

"He pointed out, for the time being, at least, downtown businesses are dependent on bringing people into the City. The access expressways are inadequate, largely because of trucks that use any lane. In Michigan, Mr. Yaffa said, they must keep to the curb lane except when passing. He pointed out that Center City parking rates are prohibitive. Adequate and free parking make suburban parking centers successful, in his estimation. 

"Mr. Yaffa pointed out that all distinguished visitors to the City are driven down Chestnut Street to Independence Hall - an indication of the importance of the street for vehicular traffic. 

"He said that many people are afraid to walk on Market Street now, and suggested this might develop on Chestnut Street. 

"He likes the beautifying aspect of the proposal, but does not wish to achieve it at the expense of business. 

"Finally, Mr. Yaffa said that he always goes along with the majority - the inference being that if the majority think well of the idea, he will go along." 

I'd never heard of B.F. Dewees, so I poked around for a bit. The Hagley Museum in Wilmington, Delaware, has the papers of Kay Brownlee, director of personnel for the B.F. Dewees department store over several decades, into the 1960s. I also found some nice newspaper advertisements for Dewees in Pinterest; they gave a store address of 1122 Chestnut, with branches in Haddonfield and Drexel Hill. 

Here's a picture of the Dewees store at 1122 Chestnut street.

4. Dewees store, 1122 Chestnut street, 1966.

Here's what the block looks like today.

5. 1100 block of Chestnut in the rain, 2025.

Was Market Street Scary?

I'm interested in the idea that Market street was scary in 1965. But we should remember that the famous Chinese Wall, an elevated viaduct that brought Pennsylvania Railroad trains down to City Hall, was only demolished in 1953, and the whole area west of City Hall was being redeveloped.  Some buildings went up in the 1950s, but many of the ones we take for granted came much later. For instance, Centre Square at 15th and Market, with its iconic clothespin by Claes Oldenburg, opened in 1973. The building at 1900 Market street, former home of the Philadelphia Stock Exchange, opened in 1981. 

The commercial strip on Market street east of City Hall, and one block north of Mr. Jaffa's store at 1122 Chestnut, was also experiencing stress. For many years, there were six very large department stores on this strip. They were called the Big Six. Then, after World War II, they began to fall like very slow dominoes. Frank & Seder closed in 1953, followed by Snellenburg's in 1962. So, by the 1960s, the Big Six had lost a third of its complement. The rest followed at a leisurely pace. Wanamaker's, which had become Macy's, was the last to close, in 2025. (The Wanamaker building fronts on both Market and Chestnut, so the tribulations of Wanamaker's were shared directly with Chestnut as well as Market street. The Snellenburg's site, on the south side of Market between 11th and 12th, is now the East Market development.)  (For articles in the Encyclopedia of Philadelphia, click here and here.) 

I need to digress for a moment. The whole 1100 block between Market and Chestnut has now been redeveloped, with a mixture of new structures and refurbished buildings. The block now also has two small east-west streets, a new north-south pedestrian street, and Jefferson plaza on the southwest corner. Below is a picture of the pedestrian street, with the plaza and Chestnut street in the background. (For low-rise residential versions of this approach, see Big Mews and Little Walkways.)

6. The pedestrian walkway.

I love this block. There's even a grocery store.

We now return to our main story.

In 1965, Chestnut street merchants were also undoubtedly under stress because of the opening of the Cherry Hill Mall in 1961. I don't have data, but I don't doubt that the people who had recently moved to Cherry Hill from South Philadelphia found the Cherry Hill Mall an attractive alternative to Chestnut street. And so the merchants on Chestnut street would certainly look enviously at the free parking offered by the Cherry Hill Mall. 

Mr. Yaffa's store appears to have gone out of business in 1966, well before the arrival of the Chestnut street transitway in 1975. 

Muddy Tea Leaves

Meanwhile, west of Broad, Chestnut street was also in flux. But once again I find it hard to connect the flux with the transitway. To take just two examples, let's look at Brooks Brothers, at 15th and Chestnut, and Bonwit Teller, at 17th and Chestnut. 

7. 15th and Chestnut, 1982.


Brooks Brothers opened on Chestnut and 15th in 1974, the year before the transitway went in, and much later transferred its affections to Walnut street, opening there in 1997. It finally left Philadelphia in 2025. What prompted the move to Walnut? It's true that Walnut street west of Broad was assuming the mantle of "Fifth Avenue of Philadelphia," which had long belonged to Chestnut street. It's also possible that Brooks Brothers no longer needed all the space they had on Chestnut. The Walnut location does look smaller to me. But I'm just guessing. 

The Chestnut location is currently occupied by Staples, which is always busy whenever I go in. 

8. 15th and Chestnut, 2025.

What caused Bonwit Teller to close in 1990 after being at 17th and Chestnut since 1928? Its parent company, an Australian organization, went bankrupt. Among the stores closed was the flagship store on Fifth Avenue in New York. The Philadelphia location is currently occupied by Nordstrom Rack. 

In both these cases, I simply do not see any clear connection to the transitway. I do see other causes, either actual or speculative.

Shot by Many Arrows

Maybe the transitway was not the only, or even the major, problem on Chestnut. Certainly the shift of population to the new, car-oriented suburbs placed center-city retail at risk. The department stores, in particular, had grown up with the creation of a dense network of trolley lines, which started to disappear after the arrival of cars. 

There's also the question of style - the rise of blue jeans is one of the hallmarks of the 1960s. Women's fashions in particular underwent literally fundamental changes - the demise of the girdle, for instance - and more broadly there was the rise of sportswear. (If you'd like to know a little more about the rise of sportswear for women, click here and then scroll through until you hit a subhead that says "A Digression.") 

At his inauguration in 1961, John F. Kennedy wore a black silk top hat, which he removed for the swearing-in and the inaugural address. The legend is that this action caused the American hat industry to collapse. Hat sales had actually been declining for years, but Kennedy's inauguration is a good marker for the disappearance of men's hats in the United States. (Except of course for baseball caps.) 

Retailers faced a very fluid environment - one that called for keen perception, rapid reaction, and a bit of luck.  

Takeaways

My main takeaway from all this is the enormous power of a dream - a world of single-family dwellings connected to shopping centers by highways and cars. After World War II, the government strongly supported all aspects of this dream, as did real-estate developers, the highway lobby, the car lobby, and the oil industry. And the people bought the dream. They swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.

A part of this project was reinventing densely populated cities so they would be poor imitations of suburban sprawl - knocking down rows of townhouses near the commercial core to create surface parking lots was only one of the many crimes. 

Ed Bacon's idea for the Chestnut street transitway was a more imaginative approach. Even if it had been well executed, I think the larger issues that were confronting the whole country would probably have prevailed. With downtown department stores departing, Chestnut found a new role catering to a less affluent demographic, one less likely to arrive by car or taxi - or by foot from Rittenhouse square - and more likely to arrive by bus or subway or trolley (yes, Philadelphia still has a number of streetcar lines).  So, less like Fifth avenue in New York city, more like Times square.

And here we are, seventy years later, surveying the damage but also seeing capabilities. I do think the tide is turning. It seems there are actually quite a few people, these days, who want to live in walkable cities. Perhaps they are still a minority, but there are enough of them to create a market, and business has taken notice. On a weekend in good weather, go to 18th and Walnut and have a look at all the people walking around, shopping in the stores, eating in the restaurants, and just generally having a good time. 

Under the leadership of Prema Gupta, Center City District has taken to creating Open Streets events on Walnut west of Broad to Rittenhouse square, and also on 18th, by the square, from Locust up to Chestnut. If you think there are a lot of people walking around 18th and Walnut on an ordinary day, you need to go have a look at what happens when cars are routed around this area rather than through it. The Open Streets here have clearly been successful. It seems, every time I turn around, there's another flyer next to checkout at the greengrocer, announcing yet another Open Streets.

I think we have a real chance to turn the older parts of Philadelphia into a successful city that uses cars as part of a balanced transportation system, and as a result has streets that are safer, more pleasant, and more alive than the streets we have been used to. I'm very hopeful that walking is no longer, as Mr. Yaffa put it, "a lost art."

1. Richard Rosenberg, Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, April 10, 1978. In the George D. McDowell Philadelphia Evening Bulletin Photographs collection at Temple University.

2. Here's an interesting thought: Pavement doesn't have to be gray or black. Also, note that the bus stop is at the mid-block. I'm not sure why. But in today's world such a placement would reduce conflict with turning traffic. Courtesy of the Free Library of Philadelphia, Print and Picture Collection.

3. Photo: Bill West 

4. Photo: Parker and Mullikin. Courtesy of the Free Library of Philadelphia, Print and Picture Collection. If you look closely at the ground-floor windows, you will see posters that say "Going Out of Business." The negative is dated June 17, 1966. Mr. Yaffa's statement is dated November 15, 1965, so there wasn't a whole lot of time between his statement and the "Going Out of Business" signs.

5, 6, 7, 8. Photos: Bill West. 

On a personal note, I have been working intermittently on this story for two years. Other stories have shouldered and elbowed their way to the front of the line, and appropriately so. This one is not time-sensitive. And I think it may be a better story because my thinking had more time to evolve. However, I also think the daily diet of idiocy, insanity, and chaos in Washington does have a downside; it tends to keep us all riveted on the wave that is currently breaking onto the beach. This leaves less time for the waves that are still coming in, and the waves that have already landed.

See also Unblocking the Bus Lane on Chestnut, Chestnut Street: Loading OnlyLoading Zones Are the Key, Taming Chestnut Street.

Thursday, December 18, 2025

Circling the Drain

The brash boy from Queens thought he finally had it all.


Despite the best efforts of Louise Sunshine, New York society never accepted the self-regarding young man from the Outer Boroughs. The dinner invitations he wanted did not come. And so he gave up. Eventually he found Jeffrey Epstein, who may have been his only real friend in town.

He went to Washington, and the permanent government there also rejected him. But he had his own club in Mar-a-Lago, and he has always seemed happy and comfortable there. 

Still, there was something missing. The adoration of inferiors could not replace the affirmation of peers. But then there was Vladimir Putin, and later others like MBS, and they finally gave him what he wanted but never had before.

Now I think he is terrified they may drop him as his power slips away. Even he must be aware that he is circling the drain.

I don't think he'll wind up like Mussolini, hanging by his feet at a gas station in Milan. But I think he's facing a future where he will no longer be in the club of strongmen. He will be alone once again. Except for his flunkies.


Trump does not care about the little people who wave signs in the street. But it seems they will have the last laugh.

(If you read this early Times profile of the Donald, remember that he is not Swedish and he did not graduate first in his class at Penn.)

See also Somotomo, Little Karl. The 800-Pound Gorilla in the Oval Office.

Monday, December 8, 2025

The Future Began with a Car Crash

Filippo Marinetti and the Futurist Manifesto of 1909

Marinetti, about 1915.


"... and suddenly there were two cyclists disapproving of me and tottering in front of me like two persuasive but contradictory reasons. Their stupid swaying got in my way. What a bore! Pouah! I stopped short, and in disgust I hurled myself - vlan! - head over heels in a ditch. 

"Oh, maternal ditch, half full of muddy water! A factory gutter! I savoured a mouthful of strengthening muck which recalled the black teat of my Sudanese nurse! 

"As I raised my body, mud-spattered and smelly, I felt the red hot poker of joy deliciously pierce my heart." 

Filippo Tommaso Marinetti (1876-1944) was the principal author of the 1909 Futurist manifesto, and in the scene above he saves the lives of two clearly ungrateful bicyclists by swerving his car into a ditch. (It's clear that he was driving too fast for conditions. In fact, that was the whole point of his drive - speed.) 

I'd been wanting to write a story about Marinetti for some time, but lacked a good source. And then one day my son was browsing in a used bookstore and came across a book by James Joll called Three Intellectuals in Politics. The intellectuals were Leon Blum, Walther Rathenau, and Filippo Marinetti. The book was originally published in 1960; Ben had the 1965 paperback in his hands, and soon it was in my hands. (It's been falling apart as I use it, but I just keep taping the covers back on, and I'm not yet into the next phase of paperback dissolution, which is when individual pages start to fall out of the "perfect binding"glue.) 

A quick scan of the bibliography in Marinetti's Wikipedia article indicates that quite a bit of work has been done on him since 1960, but I've decided to content myself with Joll, who, in addition to being a good historian, is a very engaging writer. 

Futurism was about speed - particularly cars and airplanes. It was also about love of violence and hatred of women. And it wanted to destroy whatever remained of the past. As the Futurist manifesto put it in point number 9, "We want to glorify war - the only cure for the world - militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman." (Joll, pp. 135, 182. The quotation at the beginning of this story is on pp. 181-182. Joll's book contains the full text of the manifesto on pp. 179-184. This is also available online. To see it, click here.) 

Marinetti seems particularly annoyed by museums and libraries: "Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries!! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns!" (P. 183.) 

1910-1914 - Futurism

It's worth noting that none of these ideas was particularly new. The years before World War I were a period of extraordinary cultural ferment, with new ideas, both good and bad, coming forth at a very rapid clip. This was driven by very rapid change in the larger society, which in turn was driven by older movements that were reaching new peaks - particularly the industrial revolution that began in the eighteenth century and the scientific revolution that began in the sixteenth century.

Marinetti's contribution was to package a bunch of seemingly disparate ideas together and then mount an intensive, multi-country marketing campaign: "... during the years 1910 to 1914, he was travelling constantly, lecturing, reciting, organising demonstrations, shocking his hosts and provoking violent reactions everywhere." (P. 150.)

"By stopping at nothing, by using all the devices of publicity he could think of, by revelling in noise, fights and opposition, he forced the public to listen to his slogans, and a good many of them stuck in their minds." (P. 143.) Sounds like Jerry Rubin to me. Or maybe Abbie Hoffman

A Parisian journalist called Marinetti "the caffeine of Europe." Joll concurs: "... it is as a stimulant to others rather than for its own achievements that Futurism has its greatest importance in the artistic history of the twentieth century." It was people like the Cubists and the Dadaists who actually made the art. (Pp. 155-156.) 

1914-1920: Fascism

Marinetti's influence was strong in the literature and visual arts of several countries, but his greatest effect was in the politics of Italy.  As Benedetto Croce, one of the grandees of Italian letters, put it: "For anyone who has a sense of historical connections, the ideological origins of Fascism can be found in Futurism, in the determination to go down into the streets, to impose their own opinions, to stop the mouths of those who disagree, not to fear riots or fights, in this eagerness to break with all traditions, in this exaltation of youth which was characteristic of Futurism. ..." (P. 143.) 

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 brought "the end of Futurism as a coherent movement," although it continued to influence the thinking of progressive artists. (P. 168.) Marinetti turned his mind to the challenge of getting Italy into the war (perhaps the worst move the Italian nation has made between its unification in 1861 and the present day - although there are certainly competitors). In this effort he had an ally in Benito Mussolini, a prominent socialist who was in the process of trying to meld his socialism with a fierce Italian nationalism, eventually resulting in a form of national socialism known as fascism. 

The two men soon found themselves appearing together at the same rallies. This happened for the first time on March 31, 1915, in Milan. Both men wound up being arrested in connection with a later rally in Rome, on April ll. They didn't stay in jail very long, and on May 23 Italy entered the war. (P. 168.) 

Marinetti promptly joined the army, serving in the alpini, a formation of elite mountain troops. He received an award for gallantry. He was also wounded, but recovered and returned to the front, finishing out the war in 1918.  (P. 169.) 

With the end of World War I, Marinetti returned to Milan and immediately started work on the dopoguerra, or after-the-war. The year 1919 was, in Joll's words, "the year of Marinetti's greatest political notoriety." (P. 170.) He immediately gravitated to Mussolini's fascist party. At the party's foundational meeting in Milan's Piazza San Sepulcro on March 23, 1919, Marinetti spoke immediately after Mussolini, and was also elected to the party's central committee. (P. 171.) 

In addition, Marinetti helped form a group of streetfighters called the arditi, building it around a core of combat veterans. (P. 171.) 

In Milan on April 15, a socialist demonstration countered by a fascist demonstration turned into a street brawl. Marinetti and his arditi played a key part in the fighting and capped their day by invading and trashing the office of Avanti, the socialist paper that Mussolini had edited before the war. (Pp. 171-172.)

He also co-authored the Fascist manifesto that was published on June 6, 1919, in Il Popolo d'Italia, Mussolini's new newspaper. Marinetti's effort was in sharp contrast to his Futurist manifesto, concentrating on actual political issues like getting an eight-hour work day and giving women the vote. My sense is that Marinetti did not have the upper hand here. 

The fascists looked forward to a triumph in the Italian elections at the end of 1919, but the voters had other ideas, and the election was a total flop for Mussolini and his followers. This led to some serious introspection and a search for a way forward. (P. 172.) 

One result: "After 1919 the Futurist phase of Fascism was over." (P. 175.) Manifestos and street brawls were all well and good, but they clearly weren't enough. Mussolini looked for people and an approach that would help him seize control of the Italian government.  The key result of this search was the discovery of Italo Balbo, who among other things organized the March on Rome in 1922, which resulted in the king of Italy offering the prime minister's chair to Benito Mussolini. (For a lot more on Italo Balbo, see What Happened in Ferrara?) 

Mussolini also sought to turn the fascists to the right, even making overtures to the Vatican. Marinetti, a fierce anticlerical, quit the fascist party. After Italy became a fascist state he rejoined the party and continued to be a member until his death, but he was never again to have a position of leadership or influence in either politics or art, so his later life need not concern us here. It's largely unremarkable, but in you're interested, Joll does a good and sensitive job covering the ground on pages 175-176.. I get the sense that Joll actually likes Marinetti. This is not a feeling that I share. 

Legacy of a Confusing Career

As I look at Marinetti's dual careers in art and politics, I find myself asking questions for which I do not have answers. I did poke around in his childhood, but I found nothing there that would predict either of his careers.

Filippo Marinetti came from a wealthy north Italian family. He was born and grew up in Egypt (hence the reference to his Sudanese nurse in the scene above where Marinetti is born again from a muddy ditch). His father worked for the local ruler in Egypt, facilitating trade with Italian companies. For his higher education Marinetti went to Paris and studied at the Sorbonne; later he received his law degree from the University of Pavia. 

To say that Marinetti was comfortable in Paris would clearly be an understatement. Not surprisingly, since he was wealthy, he decided to write poetry in Paris instead of practicing law in Italy. 

Marinetti did write poetry, and he had a large circle of artistically minded friends. But there is nothing here to indicate that his true vocation would be as a trail-blazing propagandist and provocateur. 

We're still thinking about Marinetti today because he was the principal author and sole signatory of the Futurist manifesto. This was a document which, at the time, had significant influence across a number of art forms in a substantial number of countries. 

May I have the temerity to say that the Futurist manifesto is a piece of crap? The writing is confused and often verges on incoherence. As a political platform it strikes me as a disjointed bit of carpentry with a number of rotten planks.

I know that misogyny was popular at the time, as it seems to be in America today, but misogyny does have the bad habit of bumping up against reality. As Joll notes, "There were few fields of Futurist activity where precept and practice were further apart." For instance, Marinetti happily lent a friend the money he needed to get married, "and yet it was equally typical that, when the young couple arrived back in Milan, the speeches against marriage at the party held by the Futurists to celebrate their return were so violent that ... the bride, who was only sixteen, burst into tears." (P. 161.)

I think Marinetti's career suffers from the same defects that mar the Futurist manifesto. I have yet to find a through-line between his work in the art world from 1909 to 1914 and his later political work from 1914 to 1920. The only thing that unites these two wildly different worlds is Marinetti's talent as a propagandist and a provocateur, which he used effectively in both worlds.

I do think I've started to see some other threads. Here's one. Joll's treatment of Futurism's influence on architecture centers on Antonio Sant'Elia, who died during the Eighth Battle of the Assonzo in 1916, leaving very little in the way of completed buildings, but also a number of drawings and writings that have influence to this day. His thought that "the use of steel and concrete and the absence of decoration would make 'the Futurist house like a giant machine'" was echoed by Le Corbusier, whose famous quote is "The house is a machine for living in," or La maison est une machine à habiter. (I found this in the 1925 edition of Le Corbusier's Vers une architecture, on page ix, in a section on airplanes, or avions. It's also on page 83. Vers une architecture was first published in 1923; it contains material from his contributions to the new periodical L'Esprit Nouveau, which first appeared in October 1920. None of this means that Le Corbusier owes his epigram to Sant'Elia, but it does seem that Sant'Elia, who died in 1916, got there first.)

Sant'Elia also insisted that buildings should have no stairs, only elevators. I'm pretty sure the fire marshals would have been unhappy with that idea. (On Sant'Elia, see pp. 148-149, 169.) 

I think that Futurism had another important effect on architecture. It's an idea that was best expressed by an American army officer during the Vietnam war: "It became necessary to destroy the town to save it." 

In its Apollonian moments, the Futurist manifesto talks about machines and speed, which are cool. In its Dionysian moments, it talks about violence and destruction, which creates space for the new to flourish.

This second idea seems to have appealed to many in the architecture profession in the first half of the twentieth century. I've spent a fair amount of time looking for documentation on this, but I haven't really found it. So I freely admit that my thought is simply a conjecture. 

Here's my thought: A widely held belief in the architectural community that modern architecture should replace older forms of architecture contributed to a demolition mania that was particularly evident in the United States in the decades after World War II. This mania had, in my opinion, its greatest success with the destruction of Penn Station in New York City between 1963 and 1966 (it took a while) and its replacement by a new station that treats people like rats in a maze. 

The old building, designed by McKim, Mead & White, had subscribed to the Ecole des Beaux Arts approach that treated humans with respect and provided a meaningful progression through a series of related spaces. Apparently these ideas were seen as unnecessary relics of the past. 

Penn Station, main concourse, 1910.


I think it would be unfair to blame Charles Luckman, the architect who fitted Madison Square Garden on top of the truncated train station, for all or even most of this travesty. The Pennsylvania Railroad owned the station, and I think it's fair to say that the company had lost interest in railroading (admittedly a tough business at the time) and had taken to viewing itself as at least aspirationally a real-estate company that was happy to generate cash flow by cannibalizing its crown jewel assets. 

It's generally agreed that the destruction of Penn station triggered the birth of the historic preservation movement in the United States. The developers soon targeted Grand Central Terminal, but a curious thing happened. In 1975, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis wrote a letter to New York's mayor, Abe Beame, asking him to protect Grand Central from the wrecking ball. Here's an excerpt: "Is it not cruel to let our city die by degrees, stripped of all her proud monuments, until there will be nothing left of all her history and beauty to inspire our children? If they are not inspired by the past of our city, where will they find the strength to fight for her future?" 

As I was reading this letter, it occurred to me why the Futurists were so devoted to "contempt for woman." Futurism was about unbridled activity by young men. Women often act as a stabilizing force on such young men - mothers, Sudanese nurses, girlfriends, wives. And possibly, later, if they're lucky, an older version of the young man may find a daughter to be a source of stability and support. Sons can also fulfill this role, although they will do it differently. 

But the Futurists did not want to be stabilized, and Marcel Breuer really did want to knock down Grand Central. Jackie (and her many friends) stopped him. 

For a recent article on Marinetti in the Guardian, click here

See also Do We Secretly Want Ugly Cities and Dangerous Streets? Did Carpet Bombing Inspire Urban Renewal? What Happened in Ferrara? Night Lights in Coney Island.

Thursday, November 20, 2025

Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

Let's Take a Pass on the Unitary Executive

Nagant M1895 pistol, with a sample cartridge.


"In my experience, the most difficult part of discovering and gaining personal knowledge of genocide is accepting the truth about what happened. To know all the details while at the same time being able to continue to live a full life, without forgetting or hiding what one knows about the past." 

- Father Patrick Desbois, The Holocaust by Bullets (2008) p. 61. 

I confess I'd never given any thought to executioners' dry cleaning bills. And yet here is one of Stalin's executioners, Vasily Blokhin: "He had been one of the main killers during the Great Terror, when he had commanded an execution squad in Moscow. He had been entrusted with some of the executions of high-profile defendants of show trials, but had also shot thousands of workers and peasants who were killed entirely in secret. At Kalinin he wore a leather cap, apron, and long gloves to keep the blood and gore from himself and his uniform. Using German pistols, he shot, each night, about two hundred and fifty men, one after another." (Timothy Snyder, Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin, 2010. p. 137.) 

Let's unpack this paragraph a little bit. Snyder is describing Blokhin in 1940, during something that later became known as the Katyn massacre. After the Germans and the Soviets invaded and conquered Poland in the fall of 1939, the Soviets placed about 15,000 officer prisoners and civilian internees in three camps at Ostashkov and Kozelsk in Russia, and Starobilsk in Ukraine. (See Snyder p. 125.) 

The people in those three camps thought, until the day they died, that they would be going home fairly soon. That's what the Soviets told them. But Joseph Stalin actually had other ideas. The prisoners were a significant part of the Polish elite. Certainly the regular army officers, but also the reserve officers, who in their civilian lives were school teachers, professors, doctors, lawyers, engineers, journalists, and so forth. And the civilian internees were in the camps precisely because they were considered politically dangerous. (See pp. 125, 135.) 

After some consideration, Stalin decided that these people would not be going home, where they would almost certainly form a significant part of the resistance to Soviet rule in Poland. And so they were sent, still thinking they were about to go home, to three sites of execution. One of these was in Kalinin (now Tver), where Vasily Blokhin worked. The most famous of the three sites was Katyn. 

Why did Katyn become so famous? Because the Germans discovered it. How did that happen? Because Hitler, who had worked with Stalin to carve up Poland, decided it was time for him to carve up the Soviet Union. German troops attacked in June 1941, pushing across the Soviet-occupied part of Poland on the way to Moscow. In the early going, things looked a lot like the blitzkrieg in France, just a year earlier. But German troops never did get to Moscow, or Leningrad (now St. Petersburg). The offensive stalled, and the Russians eventually seized the initiative and found their way to Berlin. 

But that's another story. Back to Katyn. At some point in late 1942, or possibly very early in 1943, rumors began to reach the higher echelons of the German military command in the area, telling of a mass grave in the Katyn forest, located a little to the west of Smolensk. When the news finally got to Berlin, Joseph Goebbels recognized the value of the story, and he launched a propaganda blitz on April 13, charging the Soviets with mass murder. 

Nazi propaganda poster. Artist: Theo Matejko.


Goebbels may not have been expecting the Soviet response on April 15, which was effectively the old schoolyard riposte "No, you!" (I'll never forget the moment when Donald Trump, in a debate with Hillary Clinton, actually said, "No, you!" There are more adult ways to say the same thing.)

The Berlin wall fell in 1989, and the Soviet empire began to crumble. In 1990 Mikhail Gorbachev, the Soviet leader, agreed that the Germans had been right all along about Katyn. In 1991 the Soviet empire disintegrated. 

It appears that the other two sites remained official secrets until this time. I'm a little shaky on exactly when they became public items. I did find an interesting article online reporting that rumors about the Mednoye site began to circulate in 1988. As a note of explanation, Blokhin killed his 7,000 in the basement of the NKVD headquarters in Kalinin - a very impressive building that now houses a university. And Kalinin is now Tver. If you're starting to feel confused, you are not alone. Stay with me.

The people Blokhin killed were transported a short distance away from Kalinin, where the bodies were dumped into a mass grave that had been previously excavated. The burial site was in a forested area near the village of Mednoye, but its exact location was not known to the outside world. 

A group of volunteers from the Memorial organization confirmed the location of the burial site - one of the volunteers says they located the site after a KGB officer gave him the coordinates: “It definitely wasn’t legal, but we couldn’t wait.” says Sergei Glushkov. “We just climbed over the metal fence and started digging.” 

About the other site, in Kharkiv, I was stumped for a while. But I eventually found a 2021 story in the Euromaidan Press. The Polish prisoners from Starobilsk were transported to Kharkiv, where they were executed in the basement of the local NKVD headquarters. The bodies were then moved to a wooded area near the village of Pyatikhatky, not far from Karkhiv. They were buried in pits that had been dug in advance. The graves seem to have been discovered in 1969 by a group of teenagers, but the KGB moved quickly put a stop to visits by civilians, eventually erecting a fence. In 2000 the Ukrainian government created a memorial at the site, and in 2009 it declassified documents related to the murders. 

The term Katyn massacre has come to refer to all three sites. 

The slaughter at Kalinin was Vasily Blokhin's masterpiece - he actually holds the Guinness World Record for "Most prolific official executioner." He personally shot 7,000 prisoners over 28 nights, averaging 250 per night.

In addition to his leather apron, hat, and very long gloves, Blotkhin showed up with a briefcase full of Walther P2 semiautomatic pistols. This was a small handgun that had been around for a while and was apparently quite popular with German police officers. 

Blokhin chose the Walther P2 because, as his Wikipedia profile puts it, "he did not trust the reliability of the standard-issue Soviet TT-30 for the frequent, heavy use he intended." The TT-30, or Tokarev, had been in service with the Russian army since 1931. 

The Walther P2 was a very early model from this company, which is perhaps most famous today for the Walther PPK, carried by James Bond. I haven't been able to find a usable picture of a Walther P2, so here's a picture of Sean Connery with a PPK strutting its stuff. 


(I was going to say that this picture puts me in mind of the photographs of Civil War soldiers, patiently confronting a long-exposure camera while displaying their weapons, which were frequently Navy Colt revolvers. But that would be a digression.)

Another option was the Nagant M1895 revolver, which the Imperial Russian army adopted in 1895.  The design was obsolete in 1895, but the Russians kept it in service until well after World War II. The main problem (but not the only problem) with the Nagant was reloading. The Nagant was a revolver, meaning it had a cylinder that contained cartridges; the cylinder rotated each time the pistol was fired, placing a fresh cartridge under the firing pin. Spent cartridges had to be ejected one at a time through a gate in the revolver's frame. 

This is the same system used in the famous Colt .45 Peacemaker, adopted by the U.S. army in 1873.  In 1892, three years before the Nagant came on scene, the U.S. army replaced the Peacemaker with the Colt M1892, which had a cylinder that could swing out to the side, greatly increasing the ease of reloading and greatly reducing the time involved. In 1911 the U.S. army joined the twentieth century when it moved to a semi-automatic pistol, the Colt M1911. The M1911 was loaded, basically, by placing a full magazine in the handle of the pistol. When the magazine was empty, the shooter pressed a button on the side of the frame; the empty magazine dropped out of the handle, and the shooter replaced it with a full magazine. 

In the Soviet Union, the Nagant remained in active service until well after World War II. I'm amazed that such an obsolete pistol lasted so long. Maybe it says something about the inner workings of the Soviet Union. But I'm not here to speculate. Blokhin was in a position to name his weapons, and he chose the Walther P2. As we shall see, executioners below his pay grade often found themselves using the Nagant revolver. 

The executions at Kalinin were the high point of Blokhin's career, but as Professor Snyder notes above, this highlight was only one part of a long and very bloody career. It began in 1926 when Joseph Stalin appointed him chief executioner of the NKVD. The NKVD had a lot of executioners, and he was the boss of all of them. The fact that he actually shot large numbers of people himself strikes me as odd, but again there may be an insight into the Soviet mentality here that I'm not grasping. 

Blokhin particularly flourished during Stalin's Great Terror of 1937-1938. At this point, I need to stop and take a deep breath. I've been researching and writing about mass murder for several months now. I just noticed that it's starting to look normal to me. There is in fact nothing normal about the Great Terror, just as there was nothing normal about the Holodomor in Ukraine in 1932-1933, which killed 3.9 million. Or Reinhard Heydrich and his Einsatzgruppen, or the Final Solution to the Jewish Question, or, on a smaller scale, the complete destruction of the little village of Lidice in Czechoslovakia. All of these things are, in my opinion, insane. But they were carried out by seemingly rational people, who wrote long bureaucratic memoranda, and many of whom lived at least superficially normal lives. And I see this horror standing in the doorway, just outside the living room that is the United States. So I will write a little more, to try to warn people about just how bad it could get here. And then I think I will take a break and write about more pleasant things, even things that might help make the future better - that's more fun than trying to stave off the worst. 

Okay. Joseph Stalin woke up one day and decided he wanted to kill 681,692 people, and he set the wheels in motion. We should look first at his favorite whipping boys, the kulaks. These were farmers who were more prosperous than the average peasant. They also tended to be leaders in their communities - the kinds of people who might actually be skeptical of orders coming down from on high, and also influence their fellow villagers to think independently of the party line. In other words they were a threat to Stalin's complete control of his country. Stalin killed 378,326 kulaks during the Great Terror. (Pp. 78-79, 83, 107.) 

Timothy Snyder describes a typical execution: "Killings were always carried out at night, and in seclusion. They took placed in soundproofed rooms below ground, in large buildings such as garages where noise could cover gunshots, or far from human settlement in forests. The executioners were always NKVD officers, generally using a Nagan [sic] pistol. While two men held a prisoner by his arms, the executioner would fire a single shot from behind into the base of the skull, and then often a 'control shot' into the temple." (P. 83.) 

National minorities, particularly the Poles, received the same treatment. Professor Snyder again: "In 1937 and 1938, a quarter of a million Soviet citizens were shot on essentially ethnic grounds. ... In fact, the Soviet Union in the late 1930s was a land of unequalled national persecutions." Again, the reasoning was that they were not reliable supporters of the regime. (P. 89.) 

The Soviets worked very successfully to keep these killings secret, just as they had largely succeeded in keeping the full extent of the Great Famine of 1932-1933 from the public. On the other hand, they assiduously publicized a series of show trials, which began in August 1936 and initially focused on people who had been Stalin's political opponents. The trials went on from there, most notably decapitating the Soviet armed forces (the trial of the generals and certain other trials were secret) and were supplemented by purges of lower-ranking people who did not receive the formality of a trial. In all, about 50,000 people were executed. (Pp. 73-75.) 

I'm going to let Timothy Snyder summarize, starting with the obliviousness of the outside world: "Insofar as the Great Terror was noticed at all, it was seen only as a matter of show trials and party and army purges. But these events, noticed by specialists and journalists at the time, were not the essence of the Great Terror. The kulak operations and the national operations were the essence of the Great Terror. Of the 681,692 executions carried out for political crimes in 1937 and 1938, the kulak and national orders accounted for 625,483." (P. 107.) 

Valery Blokhin.

In 1953, Joseph Stalin had a stroke; he died a few days later, on March 5. Subsequent leaders tried to walk quietly away from this legacy, but I think the lesson is stark. As Lord Acton put it, "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." 

Stephen Miller visits Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.

See also Somotomo, A Lesson From the Berlin Wall, The Real Parallels Are With Weimar, What Can Pierre Laval Tell Us About Donald Trump? and Unleashing the Oligarchs, What Caused the French Revolution? and Jim Crow Was a Failed State, Giacomo Matteotti (1885-1924), What Happened in Ferrara?