There's a horrible thickness of war in the air here just now, familiar and unshakable as chronic illness. But before it passes the point of no return, I want to make a note of something that I've been meaning to get off my chest:
I went on a fast the other day, Trump. From you. I did the one thing that we all know you're unable to do to yourself:
I turned you off.
I fasted from reading about you, hearing about you, I cut away from watching you preen, mug, pose. I fasted from watching you pretend to love America, watching you pretend to be president.
- Trump tweets incoherent warning to Macron, suggests Germany could invade France again
- Macron rebukes Trump's 'America First' approach and Trump's reaction goes viral
- The midterms that keep getting better for the Democrats
There's only so much oxygen in this world, Trump. You've had far more than your share. I'm through letting you have any more of mine. I went on a fast.
It felt great, Trump. I get it now. You're a loser.
I'm through letting a person like you dictate what I should think about, obsess about, waste my time and heart on.
Last week, before I went on my fast, I watched you stand before America the night of the midterms. You were having trouble reading what they told you to say, saying, instead, that the results were "a very close to complete victory."
It's over, Trump. Now I see it. In you. You endorsed 75 candidates in the midterms. Fifty-four of them lost. Let that sink in, Trump. A full 72 percent of the candidates you endorsed, went down to defeat.
The fast helped me see that your every word is poison. I needed to be cleansed. And to see how much you've taught your country in only two years.
You've taught your country not to ask you for anything Trump. You couldn't even agree to being driven 50 miles to honor the fallen of what some see as the most heroic and formative engagement in the history of the U.S. Marine Corps, the key World War I battle of Belleau Wood, in which 1,811 American soldiers were killed and nearly 8,000 wounded.
You couldn't be bothered, Trump. There wasn't one live MAGA voter, not one printed LOCK HER UP placard in that entire military cemetery.
Aghast at your absence, Winston Churchill's grandson Nicholas Soames, a Conservative British legislator, wrote, correctly, that you were "not fit to represent" your great country. "They died with their face to the foe, and that pathetic inadequate Donald Trump couldn’t even defy the weather to pay his respects to The Fallen," Soames wrote.
For me, choosing dishonor before the dead was as un-American as it gets.
That, and choosing to deny minority citizens the right to vote, over a fair fight.
Being away from you for just a day was all it took. Now I know:
You will not break me, Trump. Because you have taught us all how truly weak you are.
You will not scare me Trump. Nor demean me. Because you have taught us all how painfully, childishly insecure you are.
You will not blind me Trump. Because we all know that you really can't see anyone other than yourself.
You will not make me hate, Trump. Because all people deserve better than you.
I went on a fast from you, and it's made me optimistic.
Your gains in the Senate are threatened, Trump. On Tuesday, Arizona Democrat Kyrsten Sinema clinched a victory over GOP opponent Martha McSally. Sinema is to be Arizona's first woman U.S. senator, and the first openly bisexual member of the Senate.
As it is, you still only have 51 Republican Senators confirmed – and at least two of them have voted against you in the recent past.
You lost big in state races, Trump. Eight Republican governorships gone. Kansas gone, for God's sake. You sat with Sheldon and Miriam Adelson of Las Vegas, watching a Republican lose the gubernatorial race in Nevada for the first time in nearly a quarter century. You watched Wisconsin lose the worst governor in the United States, your man, Scott Walker.
After all that, the Democratic margin in the House continues to make its way wider and wider – the final blue majority could be as high as 235 to 200.
It’s now clear that on Election Night you inadvertently sent the Democratic Party the only advice it needs going forward:
Don't get mad. Get elected.
You've taught us all well, Trump. Not only what to do, but what never to do. Who not to be. And what you're really made of.
Only a true loser would respond to catastrophe by instinctively classifying the victims according to whether they were his likely voters or not. And, if they were not, immediately blaming the victims.
Your first response to the horrible wildfires ravaging my native California, a clear consequence of climate change, was not only to cast blame on those suffering – and even on valiant, endangered fire fighters – but to threaten to withhold Federal aid from the victims.
Just as your first response to the white nationalist's mass murder in Pittsburgh's Tree of Life Synagogue was "If they had some kind of protection inside the temple, maybe it could have been a very much different situation. They didn’t."
This fast helped me see you for the first time, Trump. And, in some ways, it helped me more clearly see our leaders over here as well, your vocally adoring friends, people like Benjamin Netanyahu and Naftali Bennett.
I saw how you like Bibi, because you like the kind of man who has a price tag where a conscience was meant to go.
You like a man who comes complete with financing from the Adelson's, a man who's willing to say nothing about the outrages of your anti-Semitic white nationalist supporters, just as long as you move the embassy, and – contrary to the advice of senior Israeli security officials – sink the Iran deal.
What does it matter to you that since you began the embassy move, violent Palestinian protests along the Gaza border have escalated into incendiary kite and balloon arson attacks, assaults on the border fence, and now, with rocket barrages, the most serious threat of full-out war in years?
After all, a war here is a win-win for you. If Israel comes out okay, it's proof that your man Bibi was right all along. And if Israel loses, the more zealous of your Evangelical pastors can both sympathize with the victims and hail the defeat as a step toward the fulfillment of End of Times prophecy.
You saw it all after the synagogue shooting, how Bibi and Bennet were willing to sell out their own people - the Jews of America, those who do not vote for you - in order to praise you, for the sake of political gain and Adelson favor.
You will not slime me, Trump. Because you've already shown everyone your greatest weakness: the fact that cheating and tricking the system is the only way you can win.
Consider the end of your man Dana Rohrabacher. Thirty years in Congress, 15 terms. And he's gone. The man whom your own Republican Majority Leader, Congressman Kevin McCarthy, tied to you when McCarthy said during your 2016 presidential campaign: “There’s two people I think Putin pays: Rohrabacher and Trump.”
The midterms showed that you're running out of tricks, Trump. And out of collaborators with the Russians.
A tide has turned, Trump. Against you.
In fact, you've convinced me to keep up fasting from you one day every week. I may take a leaf from your golf schedule and expand this fast to a long weekend. The better to focus on ways to help drive you from power.
The experience was, as we Jews say, an easy fast.