You stormed the palace of freedom and democracy. Who will storm the palace of hypocrisy? We will. When we storm the palace we are wresting power from the few and privileged. You are the few and privileged: We will wrest power from you. We will storm the palace of hypocrisy! We will send no one to the guillotine—we are better than that: We have laws and customs and traditions and great notions of who we are planted in our souls. We will TAKE power.

That palace of freedom and democracy, which houses a great democratic republic, is mine. I own it. It is mine—perhaps ours, then, the people’s palace. We own it; it is ours, and you sent your mad hordes, and you stormed our palace. We will forgive—we are a generous people—but we will not forget! We will turn you back at every small, single opportunity. With every gesture of our souls and every beat of our hearts, we will oppose you. You will not have power.

You stormed our palace: Nice try. Don’t do it again!

Now, I think I am supposed to say something like, “Let them eat bread,” right?—something like that. Yeah, that’s it: Let them eat bread!

Clever jabs at Trump about cognitive acuity and adult diapers are not enough. Equal his language: It is time now for a sustained, vicious, verbal assault. You are not psychopaths; you don’t know how to go there, but do it as an exercise: A SUSTAINED, ALL OUT, WICKED, RHETORICAL ASSAULT. Never let up. He has been convicted of sexual assault; he is a Hitler wannabe. Stop making clever jabs—the effect on a listener is that your remarks are defined by what he previously said, like the night before: That puts him in the lead. You are bouncing around in a world that he is defining. Start defining the political reality, use the kind of verbal assault that speaks louder and better and corners him, and keep it up, the viciousness, the loudness, the genuine anger—put it out there, and keep it up: We are a great Jeffersonian Democracy—we love what we are: a polite back-and-forth political-positions-nudging here and there on this and that topic. He is trying to ruin that. He is s sneaky weasel who assaults women in department store dressing rooms. Define him, corner him: Make him lose!

November 11, 2024. We have our Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Caligula. What the fuck skill does Donald Trump have other than running his mouth? We are that jaded, tired, old nation at the end of its course, the bottom of the heap; we have reached the end of days, so exhausted with the ups and downs of modern life that nobody gives a shit. We have lost that stiffness in our spines that it takes to survive; we have forgotten our founding spirit, the Jeffersonian proclamations that soared and put the rest of the world on notice that we are here, we are fucking here, and we are free, and we believe in it, we are free, and we really believe in it; tyranny has no place in our new thinking, our new place, our uplifted sense of the beauty of life. We lived there once in that sphere of thought and uplifting notions; now, we have chosen a fool. He has no uplifting thoughts. He lives to squabble and trash and play down the greatness of who we were. What the fuck have we done?