“We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion.”

T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Watching those dried up congressmen and women struggling to defend the indefensible, I thought of our President and how the past week, more than any other, revealed him – rat’s feet over broken glass.

The people who can’t see the depth of his emptiness cannot listen or be heard, not now.

Donald Trump is a hollow man; his soul is a hollow space, drained of empathy, honesty, and compassion. To love him requires blindness or the absence of our better emotions.

When he fakes sincerity,  it is because someone told him he should, and he only seems more hallow.

A true narcissist can only love himself; he can’t even pretend to feel others’ pain.  His head and heart are full of straw.

As Eliot wrote of hollow men, the eyes are not there; they dwell in this hollow valley of lost souls, the broken jaw of our lost kingdom.

That is Donald Trump’s fate now, to be remembered in this way. He is empty at the center of his being. I wondered if it is possible to feel empathy for the person who can’t feel at all.

The most surprising vote for impeachment Monday came from a little-known Republican congressman from North Carolina named Tom Rice, a quiet, hard-working, very conservative, and loyal supporter of President Trump.

Rice reminded us when he explained his vote of what the pundits could not really explain: what it means to be human. His words are all the more, moving for their simplicity and truth:

“Once the violence began, when the Capitol was under siege, when the Capitol Police were being beaten and killed, and when the Vice President and the Congress were being locked down, the President was watching and tweeted about the Vice President’s lack of courage. For hours, while the riot continued, the President communicated only on Twitter and offered only weak requests for restraint..it has been a week since so many were injured. The United States Capitol was ransacked. Six people were killed, including two police officers. Yet, the President has not addressed the nation to ask for calm. He has not visited the injured and grieving. He has not offered condolences. Yesterday in a press briefing at the border, he said his comments were perfectly appropriate.”

Congressman Rice reminds us that it is often the small things that reveal the truth about larger things. It is often the quiet men and women who can tell us in simple and plain words what it is we feel and should be feeling.

He summarized his decision in this way: “I have backed this President through thick and thin for four years. I campaigned for him and voted for him twice. But this utter failure is inexcusable.”

So he couldn’t excuse it. In a way, that was really all that needed to be said. Hannah Arendt wrote that the truly moral man understands right from wrong, and is simply unable to do wrong.

My guess is that many of Rice’s Republican colleagues also know the difference between right and wrong, but seem unable to do right. Rice joins the ranks of heroes who are fighting for our democracy.

People like Congressmen Rice give me hope because they remind me also that the problem isn’t people who disagree; the problem is people who have no hearts and souls, they look in the mirror, and they see only themselves and their needs and wants.

They remind us that to get too close to a soulless spirit is to risk losing your own spirit. Trump has that power.

Donald Trump sucks the souls and pride out of people and spits them out on the ground. I hope that there are still enough brave and honest men and women in the United States Senate to punish him for what he has done, and even that will be less than he deserves.

“The eyes are not here.
There are no eyes here.
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms.”

• T.S. Eliot