So picture this: January 16, 2020. The United States Senate, the supposed temple of wisdom and decorum, kicks off Donald Trump’s first impeachment trial. First! Oh yeah, buckle up, folks—because this was just the appetizer. If only they knew then what we know now. Hindsight, right? It’s like watching the pilot episode of a show you thought would be a miniseries, only to find out it’s running for 10 chaotic seasons.
Anyway, the whole thing started with a whistleblower. Someone pipes up, “Hey, I think the president’s doing shady stuff on a phone call with Ukraine.” And the whole country goes, “No way, really? The guy from The Apprentice?” Yeah, him. Apparently, he called up Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and said, “You wanna be my bestie? Great. How about digging up dirt on Joe Biden and his kid while you’re at it? Oh, and don’t worry, we’ll send that $400 million in aid as soon as you do me this tiny favor.” Smooth, right?
Congress gets wind of this and launches an impeachment inquiry faster than you can say “quid pro quo.” And by December 18, 2019, they slap Trump with two articles of impeachment: abuse of power and obstruction of Congress. Abuse of power? That’s like impeaching a fish for swimming. Obstruction? That’s Trump’s default mode—he probably thought it was a compliment.
So, fast-forward to the Senate trial. Chief Justice John Roberts is dragged in to play referee, and all the senators line up, pinky promise to be impartial. Yeah, impartial—because that’s definitely what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they dreamed up partisan loyalty. “Impartial” in D.C. means you’ll at least pretend to listen while already knowing how you’ll vote.
The House managers, led by Adam Schiff, put on their best serious faces and lay out the case. They say Trump’s actions endangered national security, undermined democracy, and basically turned the presidency into his own personal game of Monopoly. Meanwhile, Trump’s defense team shows up with their argument, which was basically, “This is all a big hoax. Fake news. Witch hunt. And also, so what if he did it? It’s not illegal when we do it.”
Then there’s the big debate about calling witnesses. The Democrats are like, “Hey, maybe we should hear from some people who were actually there.” And the Republicans go, “Nah, witnesses? In a trial? What is this, Law & Order?!” So they vote against witnesses. Because why complicate things with more evidence, right?
By February 5, 2020, it’s over. Trump is acquitted on both charges. Surprise! Everyone knew the ending before the show started, but hey, Mitt Romney decided to be the plot twist. He voted to convict Trump on the abuse of power charge, which, in politics, is like showing up to a family barbecue wearing the other team’s jersey. Bold move, Mitt. Bold move.
And here’s the kicker: the whole thing felt like a big waste of time. Everyone walked away saying, “Well, that’s over.” Oh, but it wasn’t! No, sir. This was just the kickoff party for what was about to become the wildest four years in American political history. It’s like watching the opening scene of a disaster movie and thinking, “Wow, that wasn’t so bad,” only to realize the asteroid hasn’t even hit yet. Buckle up, America, because this was just Act One.
