First of all, far be it from me to wish to even set foot anywhere near the figurative territory inhabited by the likes of Maria Chappelle-Nadal, the Missouri state senator from suburban St. Louis who vociferously broadcast her desire to see President Trump assassinated (and who has been, thus far, only censured but not removed from office).  Far be it from me to encourage, support, or condone the assassination of anybody (at least not anybody in this country)!

And yet when I heard about Donald Trump actually sitting down to dinner with Chuck U. Schumer and Pelosi Galore (whom Mark Levin has called "saboteurs, out to destroy Trump's presidency"), try as I might, I simply could not prevent my subconscious mind from free-associating and directing my thoughts to one of my favorite scenes from The Godfather:

Needless to say, I am deeply shocked and embarrassed to have simultaneously entertained the thoughts of Trump's dinner and that scene from a work of cinematic fiction made in 1972 (long before Schumer's first elective office in 1975, or Pelosi's in 1987 – and even longer before Donald Trump became a candidate).  And besides, Donald Trump in no way even remotely resembles Al Pacino.

You can rest assured that my subconscious has been given a stern talking-to.