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How indelibly tiresome it is getting to hear people defend those who put Donald J. Trump in the nation’s driver’s seat last month.

No one disputes that many of them are our neighbors, or people we thought we knew and to whom we said Good Morning at the diner down the way, the diner that sits on U.S. Hwy 287 as it has for fifty years, filling up with ball-cap wearing truck drivers, mechanics, workers at the plethora of local breweries, small business people whose look-alike store fronts line the highway.

I personally think it’s high time we distributed ball caps to our so-called neighors and former quotidian acquaintances in whom we had faith and saw as fellow Americans–ball caps with a big capitalized J Is for Judas above the brim.

I say this because  you allowed your hearts and minds to be hijacked by the real Donald Trump–ginned up by him to the point, although you would never admit it to me, that you chanted “Lock her up!” as he demonized the most qualified and brilliant candidate we’vwe had in years.

Consider that job growth is at the highest rate since 2008, that 20 million Americans have health care, that the children of undocumented immigrants came out of hiding to earn their citizenship by going to college–that Barack Obama’s popularity is the highest that it has been in years.

Consider that Trump is considering David Betrayus for Secretary of State although he is on probation for sharing state secrets with his lover/biographer.

What an unbelievable three-ring circus. Many of us have yet to wrap our minds around how you could ignore Trump’s misogyny, xenophobia, racism and how he played all of you like so many violins.

Oh, yes he did.  He played you and got you to vote for h im because he presented himself to you as a miracle worker.

You voted for him to get back at a Washington you don’t understand, not giving one good goddamn about what letting him into the White House could mean.  You got off on his ranting and raving, his crass and craven bullshit and jingoism, that he said he could grab women by their genitals at will.

I have to say it.  You became the mob that called for the crucifixion of Jesus.  String her up, crucify her, you bellowed, within the white nationalist rallies calling for Clinton’s head. If you didn’t feel you knew or understood her, did a single one of you take the time and trouble to watch documentaries on Hillary Clinton, watch her speeches, comprehend her life of public service,  that she has already been interrogated by self-appointed henchmen in Congress as well as the FBI–that DOJ found no reason to indict..

Now The Donald is on a victory tour, to keep you worked up, because you are his fix.  He gets off on your adulation.

But do you really think that this conniving piece of roadkill gives a damn about you, about your families?  About your jobs going overseas, or about how much money you don’t make?

This man is a junior high school thug who cares about one thing: himself.  He likes to do one of two things at a time: make love to himself in the mirror and make money.

One minute he’s bitching about Alec Baldwin portraying him on SNL and then he’s talking on the phone with the president of Taiwan in sheer ignorance, in the blunder of blunders– upsetting China.  He’ll keep tweeting while he’s in the White House.

Trump doesn’t love America; he loves Trump.

That you didn’t see that, that you were taken in by his jive, is beyond unfortunate.  Because you put a henchman into the White House who loves power, who now has it and who won’t know what to do with it.

He is already off to the races, showing us all exactly what we’re getting and what we will have to endure for four years.  And there you will all sit, wondering why he didn’t keep his promises in exchange for your votes,  the live long day.

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