We’re dealing with assholes. You can use all the fancy words you learned in college that you like–nihilists, Know-Nothings, Paleo-conservatives, fascists, Alt-Right, whatever–but these people are assholes. The President-Elect, the defiantly clueless team he’s assembled, the gleeful liars he employs to wag their dicks at the earnest actors portraying journalists on cable teevee, his drooling and sycophantic followers: assholes.
“Typical liberal hyperbole,” the assholes will say. “It is, in fact, this kind of behavior that forced us to vote for Trump. Had you not pointed out his utter lack of qualification, or the sucking and shit-stained sphincter that exists where his soul should be, then we may not have had to vote for him.”
And then they will say,
“Whatever happened to ‘When they go low, we go high?'”
And you must remember this, remember this at all times: no matter what they say, they don’t mean it. Words, to an asshole, are not promises; they are weapons, shields, traps. The specific gobbledygook is irrelevant. What they mean is this: Fuck You.
You’re not a Real American® like them. Maybe you’re poor. A faggot, a nigger, or a spic. What’s your last name? Tell me your (((last name))). Maybe your daddy didn’t mean anything to anyone but you. Cripple? Retard? Could be you’re just one of those fucking weirdos. Or a woman.
(And Jesus fucking Christ don’t bring up the popular vote. Trump won that, too, if you count the Real American® votes twice like the Founding Fathers intended. Hilary only won that because of the cities. You know who lives in cities.)
The words don’t matter, just the message: Fuck You.
I quoted Lincoln; I’ll so so again:
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched–as surely they will be–by the better angels of our nature.
That was his first inaugural speech, and he was wrong. There are some who have no better angels to their nature, and others still whom deserve enmity. The destroyer of America is my enemy, whether he be born in Moscow or Manhattan, and now is the time to choose sides.