Guno צְבִי
We fight, We win, Am Yisrael Chai
The shock of blond-grey hair was familiar. So was the blue suit, white shirt and red tie. So was the conspicuously assertive tug of the suit jacket.
But the Donald Trump who walked into courtroom 22 on Thursday was a Trump that the public never sees – meek, shrunken, stripped of bravado and any sense of control. And, quite possibly, scared.
Long accused of sexism, racism and xenophobia, he had to defer to magistrate judge Moxila Upadhyaya, a woman born in Gujarat, India. His future trial will be overseen by Judge Tanya Chutkan, a woman born in Kingston, Jamaica, and appointed to the bench by Barack Obama.
Upadhyaya made Trump stew by arriving about 15min late. He occupied that time sitting at a long table that bore a black computer monitor, microphone and sheets of paper. He folded and unfolded his hands, picked up a document and discarded it, turned and whispered to his lawyers. He scratched his nose, scribbled on a document and puffed out his cheeks. Like a child, he could not sit still.
The days when he could push a red button in the Oval Office to order a Diet Coke on a silver platter were long gone. The mouth that summoned armies of supporters to the nearby Capitol on January 6, or that delivers bellicose speeches at campaign rallies, was silenced. When Upadhyaya, firm but courteous, took her seat, she called him “Mr Trump” rather than “President Trump” – a citizen, no more and no less.
Dethroned, Trump was forced to undergo the same legal rituals as any other defendant. When a court deputy read aloud the name of the case – “United States of America v Donald J Trump” – he shook his head in disapproval.
Trump raised his right hand and was sworn in. There was a flicker of confusion as he stood up to give his name only to be told that sitting would do just fine. “Yes, Your Honour, Donald J Trump,” he said, adding: “John.” He gave his age as 77.
Asked if he had taken a medication or substance in the last 24 hours that would make it hard to answer, Trump replied: “No, I have not.”
Perhaps most sobering of all was Upadhyaya’s recitation of the charges and the “term of imprisonment” that Trump could face “if convicted”. He leaned forward in his chair, listening intently. Was he imagining himself behind bars, the cell door slamming shut? Could anything terrify him more?
https://www.yahoo.com/news/mr-president-mr-strongman-donald-090008690.html
But the Donald Trump who walked into courtroom 22 on Thursday was a Trump that the public never sees – meek, shrunken, stripped of bravado and any sense of control. And, quite possibly, scared.
Long accused of sexism, racism and xenophobia, he had to defer to magistrate judge Moxila Upadhyaya, a woman born in Gujarat, India. His future trial will be overseen by Judge Tanya Chutkan, a woman born in Kingston, Jamaica, and appointed to the bench by Barack Obama.
Upadhyaya made Trump stew by arriving about 15min late. He occupied that time sitting at a long table that bore a black computer monitor, microphone and sheets of paper. He folded and unfolded his hands, picked up a document and discarded it, turned and whispered to his lawyers. He scratched his nose, scribbled on a document and puffed out his cheeks. Like a child, he could not sit still.
The days when he could push a red button in the Oval Office to order a Diet Coke on a silver platter were long gone. The mouth that summoned armies of supporters to the nearby Capitol on January 6, or that delivers bellicose speeches at campaign rallies, was silenced. When Upadhyaya, firm but courteous, took her seat, she called him “Mr Trump” rather than “President Trump” – a citizen, no more and no less.
Dethroned, Trump was forced to undergo the same legal rituals as any other defendant. When a court deputy read aloud the name of the case – “United States of America v Donald J Trump” – he shook his head in disapproval.
Trump raised his right hand and was sworn in. There was a flicker of confusion as he stood up to give his name only to be told that sitting would do just fine. “Yes, Your Honour, Donald J Trump,” he said, adding: “John.” He gave his age as 77.
Asked if he had taken a medication or substance in the last 24 hours that would make it hard to answer, Trump replied: “No, I have not.”
Perhaps most sobering of all was Upadhyaya’s recitation of the charges and the “term of imprisonment” that Trump could face “if convicted”. He leaned forward in his chair, listening intently. Was he imagining himself behind bars, the cell door slamming shut? Could anything terrify him more?
https://www.yahoo.com/news/mr-president-mr-strongman-donald-090008690.html
