Trump Won. Now What?

So help me, I can't with this. I just can't.

Samuel Corum/Getty

Let me start by saying a very hearty and heartfelt congratulations to about 51% of my fellow Americans, especially all of you in the seven so-called battleground states. You voted for Diarrhea Forever and won. I hope you get it.

Now that that’s out of the way, to the rest of us: now what?

I mean that rhetorically, of course. I don’t know the answer.

What that question even means and how one answers it is deeply personal and will depend on one’s situation, on the circumstances in which one exists and experiences in one’s life right now and in the next four years.

At opposite ends of the spectrum, there are those for whom “Now what?” will absolutely mean fear and physical and financial jeopardy, and there will be those whose day-to-day existence may not change materially, at least not immediately.

I don’t know what I can tell any of you, regardless of where along that range of possible futures you are. I am not a politician, a political strategist, or a journalist. I’m just a guy with a family and friends, a day job, a couple of social media accounts, this newsletter, and a dad bod.

If you want perspective from people “in the business,” here are a couple of morning-after pieces that I found insightful, even helpful. First, by Simon Rosenburg, “Proud of All of You,” and another by David Kurtz, “Not The Fight We Wanted Or Signed Up For But It’s The One We Got.”

As for me, like many of you, probably most of you, the news is still fresh and raw, and I am nowhere near finished processing it, either emotionally or analytically. So, these thoughts are inchoate and unrefined by any kind of perspective, to be perfectly honest.

I can tell you this: it is natural, even permissible, to be angry. It is understandable to be frightened.

And you can rightfully be expected to feel appalled at the realization that one out of every two of your fellow citizens affirmatively wanted and voted for… what exactly? Fascism? Authoritarianism? White supremacy? A systematic, militarized pogrom of Hispanic people? Some combination of all the above?

Were they hoping for the actualization of one of Trump’s many malignant and vengeful promises? Something along the lines of what Adam Gopnick, who’s been following and analyzing Donald Trump’s political power for a decade, describes in his piece for the New Yorker, “How Alarmed Should We Be If Trump Wins Again?”

• Pardoning and celebrating the January 6th insurrectionists, thus allowing the existence of a nation-wide, paramilitary organization free to commit consequence-free violence on his behalf.

• Attempting to persecute his political rivals.

• Abandoning Ukraine, NATO, and the U.S.’s other international alliances.

Or did they have a problem with what Harris was promising to do?

Honest to God, while Trump was doing his double hand job dance and farting his way through two hour-long rallies at which he talked about windmills, Hanibal Lecter, and the size Arnold Palmer’s dick, she literally put out a To Do List!

Kamala Harris’ To-Do List as posted on X (fka Twitter)

With what on this list did they have a problem?

Maybe it was none of that. Who can really know?

I would certainly hate to think that it was something as stupid and banal as what Stephen Robinson wrote two weeks ago in his piece, “How the hell is this even close?” for Aaron Rupar’s newsletter, Public Notice:

“Maybe they just believe they have nothing to lose and want to make the libs cry.”

But maybe it was.

It is this realization, I think, that robs me of reason and understanding. And all my thinking about it and trying to figure it out, has left me exhausted, pissed off, and soul weary.

Like I said, I don’t know, and I won’t presume to tell you, what you should do now. I can only tell you what I feel like I need to do.

I will be disconnecting from politics for a while. I mean that I will not read, listen to, or participate in any media, social or otherwise, that is political in nature. I can’t anymore. At least until the exhaustion and the psychic damage to which I have subjected myself over the past eight(!) years—the final wound having occurred last night—have faded.

I will watch the evening news, selectively read the online editions of those couple of periodicals that I still subscribe to, and stay generally aware of current events, limited to information that will allow me to make informed choices about my personal finances, my leisure time, my work-related responsibilities, and of course, my safety and the safety of those I love. You know, the kind of way we all used to consume news in the before times.

No more cable news or Sunday morning political panel shows. I don’t need to watch CNN or MSNBC or Meet the Press to know which one of the two major political parties I support and which of their candidates I should vote for.

As for social media, I will partake of it only as much as will allow me stay in touch with friends. And it will not be on X (fka Twitter). Come find me on BlueSky: @raymz.bsky.social.

If you see me publishing any writing on here, it will be about sports, entertainment, pop culture, or literally anything other than politics.

You might be thinking, “Well, that’s nice for you. You live in deep blue California. You’ll be insulated from most of the terrible things that Trump and the ghouls he will bring into his administration will visit on the most vulnerable of us.”

You’re right. I have privileges afforded me by geography and socio-economic standing that will for the most part protect me from a lot of the evil that is about to transpire. But those privileges extend only to my physical well-being and that of my family. They will not protect me from the ongoing psychological and emotional trauma that will continue to injure me if I don’t take steps to remove myself from them. Living in a constant state of rage, I have learned, can be seriously hazardous to one’s health.

I wish that I could be more helpful. I truly wish that I could offer you some practical advice or even comfort. But I can’t.

I realize now that any attempts that I have made to influence the direction that this country has taken in the last twelve years were pathetic and futile. No amount of posting or protesting, no level of engagement, or donating, or even shouting did any good. Too many of my fellow Americans, for reasons I can’t pretend to understand, wanted this and wouldn’t be talked out of it for anything. So, I will let them reap what they have sown and hope that the rest of us, and the country, survive whatever it is that they have brought about, while I also hope that it will someday end.

I would love to be able to say that the resistance, whatever or whomever that is (or was the last time around) will make a difference. I honestly don’t think it will. The weirdos are back in charge now. They’ve studied and learned from all the mistakes that were made the first time, and they mean to have their glory. “Fuck your feelings” is the mission statement and cruelty for cruelty’s sake is the order of the day.

So, the best that I can offer you is this: above all else, take care of yourself and those you love in whatever way you are capable of. That is also my job now.

Watch out for one another too. If you witness abuse by one of the Tangerine Terrorist’s self-appointed, civilian foot soldiers toward someone weaker or different, and if you can do so safely, intervene. If you can, confront the abuser. If you can’t do that, offer assistance or comfort to the victim. And if you think of it, get your phone out and record everything that’s happened for when you call law enforcement and put the asshole on blast.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got right now. I hope it helps. Thanks for letting me vent a little bit.

Be safe and be well, friends.