Pathetic Trump rolled over by Putin

The Trump-Putin summit Monday was an unmitigated disaster for America.

Our president disgraced himself and our country.

Donald Trump cowered instead of confronted. He deflected instead of being definitive. He should have taken to task Russian president Vladimir Putin for attacking our democratic process.

Instead, he was weak and subservient.

The world may never know what the two said behind closed doors — neither can be trusted to speak the truth — but the subsequent news conference left no doubt that Putin was the dominant one.

He was by turns commanding and confident as he stood side-by-side with Trump, artfully mixing in occasional expressions of boredom or bemusement. Virtually unchallenged by Trump, he asserted that Moscow has “never interfered” in an American political contest and would not do so in the future.

There were almost too many ignoble moments to count in a news conference in which Trump disparaged the media, Democrats, an investigation led by one of his nation’s most esteemed lawmen that has produced more than 30 indictments, including a dozen against Russian military intelligence — while giving Putin the benefit of the doubt for his “extremely strong and powerful” denial of any interference in U.S. elections.

Trump also defied the unanimous conclusion of all U.S. intelligence agencies by saying “I don’t see any reason” to believe that Russia was behind the hacking of Democratic computer servers. The indictments against the 12 Russians made public Friday offered extensive detail of the Russian penetration of not only those servers, but of state websites and computers handling voter registration.

With Putin standing beside him, Trump called the investigation by special counsel Robert Mueller that produced those indictments “a disaster for our country.”

No, Mr. President. You are.



It’s a mad, mad world

I have not posted on my world-famous Zeke Blog, the font of superlative prose and the zenith of humor, for sometime because I’ve been busy (1) searching for Godot, (2) wondering why all things are LeBron, (3) speculating why the impish Duchess Meghan would dare fancy a scandalized off-the-shoulder dress (how sinfully sordid!), (4) sending spy drones over Canada in preparation for a possible invasion, and (5) figuring out how Justin Trudeau and not Kim Jong Un is Bad Guy No. 1.

Speaking of folks named Kim, who has the bigger ass — Jong Un or Kardashian?

Going to the dogs

Some folks have the most redeemable, adorable qualities. They restore your faith in the human condition.

Then there are people like Cavan McDaniel, who likely won’t be named Humanitarian of the Year.

Cops in Florida say McDaniel assaulted a convenience store attendant with a barrage of hot dogs.

God, I hope she’s not a vegan.

According to a police statement on the arrest, witnesses told deputies that McDaniel was upset because the attendant would not sell him beer.

The victim then told deputies that McDaniel threw hot dogs at her and poked her in the face with a corn dog stick, leaving a red mark under an eye.

Another black eye for mankind.

The Eagles fly to a Super Bowl title on a daredevil flight

Live long enough and you’re liable to see the improbable, hell, impossible become reality.

The last time the Philadelphia Eagles won a world championship I was 11 and listened to them beat the Vince Lombardi Green Bay Packers on the radio because the 1960 NFL title game was blacked out in Philly.

Then came Sunday night’s spectacularly astonishing 41-33 Eagles’ Super Bowl victory over the New England Patriots when both offenses were electrifying and both defenses rested their case.

This time there was no incredible Patriots’ comeback. This time QB12, also known as Tom Brady the G.O.A.T., didn’t pull it out with a miracle. Despite throwing for an incredible 505 yards, his Hail Mary went unanswered as his 60-yard heave on the final play bounced off a bunch of hands and onto the Patriots’ logo in the end zone.

The Eagles were champions of the world for the first time in 58 years.

Eagles coach Doug Pederson, a swashbuckling gambler who has evolved into a master play caller, outwitted The Hoodie. And Nick Foles was dropping dimes with aplomb and throwing deep with uncanny accuracy.

Tom may be beating Time but he couldn’t beat the Eagles.

For Philly was a team of destiny. And you can’t screw with destiny.

Foles, Eagles are barking Super Bowl

Pardon me if I’m a little tipsy with the intoxication of the moment, but the Eagles are going to the Super Bowl!

Imagine that because nobody in hell – or heaven – ever imagined that back in August.

Remember that dark day when wunderkind Carson Wentz went down with a shredded ACL and folks thought that the Birds’ season went up in smoke?

Guess what? They were not down to their last cigarette.

Courtesy of Nick Foles, who once upon a time had a fairy tale season of his own under Chip Kelly with the Eagles.

In the NFC conference championship game Sunday night against the favored Vikings, Foles had a supernova of a game. He rode an awesome wave all evening, one of those galactic explosions of white light that simply consumes everything else.

He entered the game with circumstances putting him squarely in the crosshairs. If what he had wrought in the game had gone down in flames, he would have been the first one incinerated.

Instead he burned that vaunted Vikings’ D, going a do-you-freaking-believe-this 26 of 33 for 352 yards, three touchdowns, no picks and an astounding 141.4 passing rating in a resounding 38-7 ass-whupping.

So much for the Eagles being underdogs.

Sunday night we heard the howl of the wolf — OK, dog — and the bleat of the lamb.

Besides Foles and his electric offense, the Eagles’ defense gobbled up the Vikings like a starving wolf tracking down a pork chop.

Granted, the Eagles face a daunting task in the Super Bowl when they confront the immortal Tom Brady and the dynastic Patriots. Once again they will be characterized as underdogs.

But these underdogs have one percussive bite.