Trying to understand the Donald phenomenon is like trying to have a rational conversation with a drunk.
Emotions are high, reason is suppressed, and the normal brain function is clouded by a powerful, yet temporary, nirvana.
In the morning after a Trump election to the Presidency, America will wake up with a massive hangover of regret. Like finding oneself, naked and confused, in an unfamiliar bed after an alcohol-fueled sexual tryst, the country’s conscience will wallow in shame.
The phrase, ‘What was I thinking?’, will play over and over as the fog of memory clears and we realize what we did.
It all felt so good at the time.
It all was so much fun.
Gathering our scattered clothing and dignity, we will slink from the room hoping the object of our desire doesn’t wake up.
Once outside, as we realize the rest of the world is snickering, we will hang our head and flee.
We will stumble over our rationality lying discarded in the trash next to the empty bottles of self-delusion. Then, the search for where we parked our once great Republic begins. All while our skull contains the explosions within.
In January, after we have wallowed in regret for those few brief moments of pleasure, we will reap what we have sown.
We planted a seed and it took. We created something to which we will be bound for years to come. Paying for our sins and our poor choice of a path to greatness.
He was going to make us great again.
In the end, America, he will turn out to be the devil so many of you believe in. Even as you fail to recognize him standing right in front of you, urging you over the cliff of hate and bigotry.
Is this the best this country has to offer?
If so, then our greatness is in the past and our future bleak.
But I see a glimmer of hope. A spark of rationality growing within the country. Perhaps that glow of attraction is dimming.
Perhaps we will clear our brains for a moment, turn down that next drink, and try to envision a future with such a man as President.
But he makes sense, you protest. He’s not a politician, not part of the machine. You want that next drink. You want the intoxication to grow and flourish. You want the promise to be real.
Stopping the illegals, building a wall, putting America first.
Walls, like tracer bullets, work in both directions.
Walls can keep people out and keep people in and controlled.
Walls need not be physical. Walls can be built with laws and the power of government. Walls can be used to secure economic advantages for some and not for others. Walls can come between freedom and those yearning to be free.
Those are not ideas of a great America. Those are the ideas of a propagandist using raw emotion to banish reason, fear to overcome rationality, and promises of security to strip away freedom. Trump resonates with people too lazy to think, too blinded by fear to see, or too deaf to hear the truth.
Trump is a predator. Leading the pack because the others are afraid to challenge him. They chase after the weak and revel in thinning the herd. A herd of their choosing. Lording over those powerless to resist.
Until the day comes when you become the weak.
Then what, America?
If that is the roadmap to making America great again, we need a new map and a new compass.
This Donald phenomenon is the newest contagion. We hope the country catches on, before it catches something incurable.