Yup, I sure as shit hitched my dumbass wagon to the wrong diseased pony since I was 23 and come October 7th it threw me off with a big fuck you from colleagues, friends and strangers; apparently for everyone else it wasn’t about doing the right things but satisfying the same demented, paleolithic urges to draw distinction and satisfy the carnal need to hate, to empower oneself with the strength of the mob and revel in the status from selection and sacrifice. A bacchanal of the desperate to be seen, indistinguishable from those I mocked and reviled among Trump loyalists, just with less ankle edemas.