I have nothing original to say about the inauguration. I’ve said a lot about the return of the Kaiser of Chaos to power. Nothing good can come of it. The most we can hope for is that incompetence and infighting will minimize the damage caused by MAGA madness.

I wish I believed in omens. If I did moving the inaugural festivities indoors could be a sign of something or other. Alas, I’m not superstitious. I take seriously Stevie Wonder’s admonition that “superstition ain’t the way.’

The MAGA maggots would do well to heed another line from the gospel according to Stevie, “When you believe in things that you don’t understand. Then you suffer.”

As of this writing, I’m more concerned about New Orleans’ share of this winter storm. We may get snow for the first time since 2008. Some find that appealing, I find it appalling. We’re not set up for wintry mixes and such. If I were superstitious, I’d try to ward it off with some mumbo jumbo, but I’m not so all I’ve got for you is this:

The country’s future is obscured by clouds and cloudy thinking. One thing I’m certain of in an uncertain world is this: Our fate is your fate.

That concludes my cursory comments on the accursed inauguration.

The last word goes to John Fogerty followed by Emmy Lou Harris: