Last year, during an Alabama rally for the ill-fated U.S. senator Luther Strange, Donald Trump turned to one of his favored cultural wars: attacking the NFL players protesting racial inequality and police brutality. "Wouldn't you love to see one of these NFL owners, when somebody disrespects our flag, to say, 'Get that son of a bitch off the field right now,'" he said to a roaring crowd. "Out! He's fired. HE'S FIRED!'"

It didn't make a lick of difference to Trump, of course, that Colin Kaepernick, the former San Francisco 49ers quarterback blackballed by the NFL for his activism, had reached out to retired Army Green Beret Nate Boyer to figure out a way to protest while, as Boyer put it, "also respecting the men and women who fought and died for what our flag is supposed to represent." In a combustible political environment, where the wide-eyed often lament that those with differences no longer participate in dialogue, two men from divergent ideological perspectives met to honor one another's values: kneeling, as opposed to sitting like Kaepernick had previously done, was their solution.

But compromise, dialogue, and workable solutions aren't what Trump seeks; his power is in whipping up white rage. And the NFL, which is comprised of 70 percent black players and 94 percent white franchise owners, provided a ripe backdrop for exerting white will over black protests. Trump told Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones that he wouldn't relent in his offensive on this particular display of free speech because it was a "winning, strong issue" for him. Indeed, it was. Just as 60 percent of Americans disapproved of Martin Luther King Jr's civil rights march on Washington in 1963, 49 percent of Americans today believe that the peaceful NFL protests are "inappropriate." Trump supporters, in particular, took to squawking that these non-violent protesters, kneeling in silence during the anthem, were somehow disrespecting the troops even as the players unequivocally rejected doing so.

These same patriots were remarkably silent over the long weekend.

Last Saturday morning, just before Veteran's Day, Trump skipped out on a ceremony commemorating the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I. He was scheduled to lay a wreath at the Aisne-Marne American cemetery, where more than 1,800 Americans, who fought alongside the French to repel Germans, were buried. But he cancelled, citing "scheduling and logistical difficulties caused by the weather," otherwise known as light rain. The sprinkling of water didn't keep any of the other world leaders from attending scheduled events, nor WH chief of staff John Kelly and Gen. Joseph Dunford, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, from going to the cemetery in his stead. Back in DC on Monday, he blew off Veteran's Day altogether, canceling another pre-scheduled visit, this time to Arlington Cemetery, a mere 12-minute drive from the White House.

Winston Churchill's grandson called Trump "pathetic" in near disbelief that he "couldn't even defy the weather to pay his respects to The Fallen." Ben Rhodes, a foreign policy advisor to President Barack Obama, dismissed the lame bad-weather excuse out of hand, tweeting that "there is always a rain option. Always." The MAGA crowd of course said nothing; they certainly won't miss the next rally. Just as they have when Trump, who dodged the Vietnam war by claiming "bone spurs," attacked three Gold Star families; called the late Senator John McCain (R-Ariz.) "no war hero;" and lied about donating $1 million to veterans' nonprofits until media pressure forced him to make good on his pledge. Whether you ascribe to military heroism or not, it's unequivocally true that no one disrespects the troops more than Trump. He famously once said that he could "stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot someone" and "not lose any voters"—the same would hold true if the someone he shot was a decorated vet.