Lately, I’ve been suffering — suffering from the aftermath of the recent “rigged” elections. I guess you could call it Post-Election Trauma Syndrome or PETS for short. Like many, I cannot believe or accept the results: that a man who is unquestionably unqualified to be President of the United States — no experience, no knowledge — a man who uses insults to bully his way into getting what he wants, who is a racist, a misogynist, a bigot, a con artist, a groper and a sexist — in short, someone who, were he anyone else, would be imprisoned for some of the things he’s done –imprisoned and placed on a watch list — that someone like this is going to represent the country I have cherished since my earliest days.
While my stomach is no longer in knots as it was the day after the election, I still cringe, like many, at the thought of what will happen come January 20th. What will become of our country? What will happen to our immigrant communities — Hispanic, Muslim, African, Asian and all those who are not part of that hateful segment of our population — the neo-Nazis, the KKK and all the other hate groups that bomb churches, burn crosses and terrorize anyone who does not fit into their twisted vision of white (or other) nationalism? What about our African-American brothers and sisters who have fought so hard and so long for a chance at equality and who will now face a backlash from white supremacists who are gloating over this victory? What about the rest of our Caucasian comrades who find what has happened unthinkable? We are all in danger no matter the shade of our skin.
And then there are the other consequences — once we get through the initial ugliness — if we get through the initial ugliness. Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security. Will these be eviscerated now that the Republicans are in charge of the executive and legislative branches? Will a woman’s right to choose be taken away? Will marriage equality become marriage subjugation? And what will happen to the Supreme Court now that, after having stonewalled President Obama’s well-qualified appointee, the right-wing Republicans are poised to choose a right-wing activist judge?
And what of the other unprecedented “promises” that were made by this nasty individual? NATO — the bedrock of post-WWII order? A giant “beautiful” wall along the Mexican border? The elimination of the Affordable Care Act? And what of things unsaid ? What will happen to unions? To working people as the new regime fills up the swamp they promised to drain? Who will benefit from what, from all appearances, may be the most corrupt administration in American history?
All of this from a man whose claim to fame includes the birthing of birtherism, a stint on The “failed”Apprentice and the proclamation of that most heinous of phrases: You’re fired! A man whose top advisors, small hands and all, hail from the alt-right or who spew nothing but vitriol and hate?
Where will our country be in a year or two? I can hardly bare to think of it.
And so I’ve made a resolution, part of which is to stop attending the news. Mostly television news but print as well. True, I will still continue to follow the headlines and read those stories that are of importance to me: stories about overseas events. Stories that take me away from the reality I wish to escape.
However, the main part of this resolution is to refuse to call this person, who has somehow made his way to the White House, the president-elect. Not simply because he lost the popular vote but because he is unfit to carry that distinction.
And as for his actual name? I can’t bare to say it.
So from now on, I will refer to this odious individual as Resident-Elect Rump. And after January 20th: Resident Rump. It’s fitting, I believe, because that’s all he will amount to, in my opinion. A resident of a building that happens to be on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. An individual whose rotund backside will occupy the Oval Office.
And, if he doesn’t like it— he and his thin-skinned, reprehensible appointees — well,then, to quote his very own words: “They can go FUCK themselves.” A phrase which, I believe, is now acceptable to say in polite company.
