One of my devices for avoiding the sight of Trump's face on television has been to binge watch a rather large amount of the schlock series called Defiance. No need for me to sketch the lineaments of the story. Suffice it to say that one of the seven extraterrestrial races to have shown up in post-apocalyptic St. Louis is a group of very, very white people who bath communally and have a heightened sense of honor. When one of them has done something really bad, he is strung up by hands and feet on a "shaming rack," the ropes of which are pulled tighter and tighter as each member of their little band comes forward and drops another rock in a basket until the poor slob is torn apart. Very poetic.
I just called the offices of my two North Carolina Republican senators and left a message opposing Trump's nominee for Secretary of Education. I think of this as two more tiny pebbles in the basket of the shaming rack.