Clear and Present Danger
The phrase “clear and present danger” was first coined by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. in 1919 as a legal standard to justify limitations on free speech. Decades later, in Tom Clancy’s political thriller Clear and Present Danger, the term was reinterpreted to reflect the abuse of political and military power within a government bureaucracy, where accountability is elusive and actions skirt the boundaries of legality. Today, in my view, the current occupant of the White House represents a clear and present danger to the United States—and even to the world.
Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan in the 1994 movie adaptation of Clear and Present Danger.
On my second day in Washington, I had only visited a very small portion of the Smithsonian museums, but the sun was shining and I was curious to explore Georgetown. It seemed like a perfect place for breakfast. The Chesapeake and Ohio Canal—abbreviated as the C&O Canal—runs through Georgetown, nearing its endpoint in Washington. Its starting point is in Cumberland, nearly 300 kilometers to the northwest. The canal ceased operations in 1924 and is now preserved as the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Historical Park. When I visited, the water level in the canal was very low.
I had avocado on toast and a cappuccino at Blue Bottle Coffee—a chain, as I later found out. Despite the outrageously high price, the cappuccino came in a paper cup and the toast in a cardboard box. What is the obsession with disposable packaging? A cappuccino simply tastes better from a proper ceramic cup. It just feels cheap. I had to think of the European Mind Cannot Comprehend-meme.
Debris was floating in the Potomac river due to heavy flooding upstream.
In Georgetown, I came across a Barnes & Noble bookstore that had several books by Sarah Kendzior. I was hoping to buy her latest book, The Last American Road Trip: A Memoir, but it was only available in a bulky hardcover. Instead, I picked up a paperback copy of They Knew. It was such a beautiful day that I walked from Georgetown to the Lincoln Memorial and spent a few hours reading on a bench in the sun.
Before reaching the Lincoln Memorial, I passed the U.S. Institute of Peace, founded in 1984 by Ronald Reagan. I assumed that an institute with such a name would have felt the full force of the Trump administration, so I quickly snapped a photo. In March, Elon Musk’s DOGE team forced their way into the building. Trump fired the USIP’s staff, and DOGE locked the doors for two months. The USIP, with a modest $55 million budget approved by Congress, is tasked with promoting conflict resolution and prevention around the world.
“It is not enough for Trump to commit an illicit act: He needs to know that you know that he got away with it.”
Butterworth’s for the ‘weirdos and freaks’
On January 31 The Washington Post published an article about Butterworth’s, a Capitol Hill bar and restaurant which was suppose to cater to far-right intellectuals and enfants terribles. This triggered my interest, so I decided to visit—well before Italian aperitivo time.
Figures such as War Room co-host Scott Presler, Raheem Kassam of Breitbart News UK, Grimes, Jack Posobiec, Kash Patel, and even Secretary of the Treasury Scott Bessent. Despite its appearance—resembling an old cabinet of curiosities—the bar only opened in October 2024.
Bart Hutchins on the right, the man with the white cap is the New York Times photographer.
“In February, according to a source present for this meeting, several senior House Republican aides from different congressional offices gathered at the Capitol-area restaurant Butterworth’s, touted as the latest martini-heavy MAGA hot spot. At one point, after several rounds of drinks, a leadership aide took out a pen and pad of paper and started asking the table for increasingly ridiculous ideas for legislation that could bring a smile to the president’s face. The brainstorming session — described to Rolling Stone as “obviously” in jest — produced bullet points of mock legislation like making Trump’s birthday a holiday, and naming the National Zoo “Donald J. Trump Presents: the D.C. Zoo”
Wallpaper inside Butterworth’s restrooms.
I don’t believe someone like Curtis Yarvin should be given a platform on CNN. His ideas are too fringe to be treated as legitimate political commentary. Don’t give him oxygen. While it may be newsworthy that tech billionaires like Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen are reportedly drawn to his views, promoting the idea of replacing American democracy with a tech-monarchy is a dangerous thought experiment.
I clearly arrived earlier than most. I ordered an Old Fashioned and settled in at the bar. The place was quiet, with only a few patrons. A photographer lingered nearby, taking photos of the sparse crowd. Not wanting to sound like a secret agent, I asked if he was “on a mission.” He replied that he worked for The New York Times.
“Part of the thesis of [Butterworth’s] was that politics are pop culture right now,” Hutchins says. “People are going to come here to be seen by these people they see on Twitter and on the news every night.”
He offers Bannon as an example. “Somebody like Steve’s just as famous to the average American — because we all watch the news 24/7 now — as Cindy Crawford was in the ’90s,”
Who needs another drink?”
I liked Butterworth’s. The bar is named after its principal investor, Alex Butterworth, an Australian-born senior counsel at Uber. Another backer, Raheem Kassam of Breitbart News UK, contributed to its reputation as a supposed right-wing clubhouse. The day-to-day operations are run by Hutchins, a 34-year-old bearded, operating partner, who is credited with shaping its distinctly European vibe. I imagined Hutchins had personally curated the 1939 “Visit the Belgian Congo” poster by Dutch illustrator N. Lenaerts—and perhaps even sourced the red fez and ceremonial sword himself.
After the Old Fashioned, I ordered an Espresso Martini, made with vodka, espresso, coffee liqueur (usually Kahlúa), and sugar syrup—though it has nothing to do with a traditional martini. I got hungry and ordered an $18 plate of fried soy sauce marinated cauliflower heads. I wanted to stay longer, but a third drink would have been too much. By ordering two cocktails, I had already broken my James Bond “one drink” rule. Including tip, I ended up paying $70.
My $18 plate of fried cauliflower heads
“In cafés where the boys are never wrong; in cafés where they are all brave …”
It’s just coincidence that the $20 bill features Andrew Jackson—Donald Trump’s favorite past president. Like Trump, Jackson pushed the limits of executive power. But there are key differences: Jackson aimed to build a government that would endure beyond his presidency, something Trump seems neither interested in nor capable of doing.
When I stepped outside, the sun was still shining brightly, and the Capitol building had never looked more impressive to me.
Despite the presence of a far-right-aligned administration in the White House, daily life in Washington carried on as usual. Police vehicles blocked streets to allow Washington Capitals fans to head to Capital One Arena for that evening’s game.
Feeling hungry again, I ordered a plate of fried beef and vegetables in Chinatown. My fortune cookie read, ‘September will bring you peace and serenity of mind.’ It was May.
Somebody still demanded change for Joaquin Oliver who was shot in a hallway outside his creative writing class at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland in 2018. He was 17 years old. 16 others were killed in the same shooting.
