On the great American achievement of failing to fix a puddle

There are civilizations that build aqueducts, cathedrals, observatories, and systems of law. 

Then there is modern America, a republic so spiritually exhausted it cannot repair a leaking reflecting pool without transforming the effort into a carnival of vanity, no-bid contracts, algae, lawsuits, and patriotic turquoise.

The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool — the long, solemn ribbon of water connecting Lincoln to Washington, grief to aspiration, marble to memory—has now been repainted “American flag blue” because the President of the United States apparently looked at one of the most iconic civic spaces in the Western Hemisphere and thought: Needs more resort energy.

There is something uniquely grotesque about watching a nation that cannot fix its infrastructure decide instead to cosmetically redecorate its symbolism. 

Rome, at least, waited until the aqueducts collapsed before going mad.