Extra: Into the Abyss

The writing was on the wall this past weekend. I grew gloomy. I started preparing for doom.

For years, I referred to the possibility of the con man’s reelection as “the unthinkable.” On Saturday, faced with all kinds of analysis anticipating a right wing win, I began to brace myself for his return to power. It was not a matter of hoping for the best and preparing for the worst; it was a matter of reality-based reflection and self-interested anxiety.

We are now faced with a crushing reality.

Back in 2004, when Bush II won a second term in office, I was so depressed I could not get out of bed. My abhorrence of W was due mostly to his invasion of Iraq and his allowing his campaign’s architect, Karl Rove, to demonize gays like me.

Today, W looks like Cookie Monster. His politicization of people’s lives was child’s play compared to what Trump and Vance are capable of.

At lunch last Saturday, Joe told me, “You will always have me.” As my mood darkened, I challenged even that notion, reminding him that buried in Project 2025 was an overturning of marriage equality. Yes, I will always have Joe, but the government may now try to remove our hard-won legal status.

As in 2004, I am depressed. My potential for personal loss aside, I am frightened for our fragile democracy, the free press, and, above all, the personal liberties we treasure.

Trump’s outspoken critics, from the New York Times editorial board to fearless and patriotic Liz Cheney to late-night comedians like Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, face unknown repercussions. Trump has spoken of training guns on Cheney. Stewart recently signed on for another year at the helm of The Daily Show. I consider this brave.

Now, we watch as the man with a propensity for declaring bankruptcy, married to an immigrant, a political actor with no solid policy ideas and support for dictators, grapples with the complexities of the American economy, the heartbreak of illegal immigration, and foreign policy in a hostile and dangerous world. To say nothing of the burning planet that he considers a “hoax.”

We recoil as personal liberties are attacked by a man who lacks character, empathy, or the slightest capacity to feel anything for anyone but himself.

He spews venom and hatred, threatens “the enemy within” with military action, and projects an encyclopedia’s worth of criminality and character deficits everywhere except where they belong.

As I did in 2004 and 2016, I will find a way to get on with my life. I will get out of bed. I will manage to find enjoyment and even hope. 

Tomorrow, I will be back with a more cheerful, apolitical blog post. Per usual.

But today, I weep for our country.