We should thank Donald Trump. We owe him a debt of gratitude. Before him we laid comfortably in our indifference. There are those who have allowed who they really are to be birthed into three-dimensional form. So, now they mail pipe bombs to presidents, carry guns into synagogues, and drive cars down pedestrian laden streets, all in an effort to strike the other.
And then there are those who have renaissance from a kind of couch class to plugging their heads with pussy hats and resulting to banging on Supreme Court doors all for a decision, and even children who are a stone’s throw over legal age launching shots at the clandestine nature of a card-carrying, riffle-driven, foe, a foe that hides behind its own kind of financially-crusted border wall.
Thank you, Donald Trump, for showing all of us who we really are. Now that we’re all out of the bag, none of us seems to have the appetite or the luxury to crawl back in, no matter how comfortable and cushy the enclosure.
Thank you, Donald Trump, for showing us all who we really are. In spirit, you’re simply the prompt for a host of conversations that need to be had, and the impetus for what might just become the “Birth of a New Kind of Nation.”