Though the Mills of God Grind Slowly, Yet They Grind Exceeding Small


Yesterday, 10.1%; today, 10.2%.

One pundit sees Trump as mad Captain Queeg. Another, writing for the same publication, sees him as the master manipulator of a death cult.

As for myself, I am surprised. I would have thought that, by this time, the cult would have suffered a meltdown. Or that, failing the anticipated meltdown, support for Trump would have remained pretty constant. What we are seeing instead is a loss of support, drip by drip by drip.

Shows to go you.

The Hogwarts sorting hat is still at work, distinguishing the batshit crazy from the merely radical–slowly, slowly, sorting a few more Slytherins each day into Gryffindor, or at least into Hufflepuff.

But, as the poem—the one I learned at my grandma’s knee—says,

THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly,

Yet they grind exceeding small;

Though with patience He stands waiting,

With exactness grinds He all.