Well. He did it. Well, it’s a democracy; I guess we all did it. Rather than elect a qualified woman, we elected the living embodiment of id, hell-bent on destroying democracy, reproductive rights, immigrant rights, rights, women, love, fun, joy and the national collective drive to get out of bed in the morning. At the dawn of the American hangover, where we will all learn just how many regrettable mistakes we made last night, I implore you to treat it like a real hangover. For the sake of my mental health and your own well being, kindly shut up.
All of the loud, elephantine, seemingly endless Trump supporters, I need you to shut up. I get it. You won. Congrats. Traditionally, seeing one’s candidate win a national election undoubtedly calls for celebration. In this case, be an adult. Recognize that less than 0 percent of this race has been traditional and that rubbing a victory in the face of every minority, woman and human being surrounding you borders upon cruel. You don’t pee on someone after you win a boxing match. If I set your house on fire, I wouldn’t drive past it the next day shouting about how great the fire was and telling you how much better your immolated house is. You don’t take a victory lap if your opponent breaks their legs. You don’t do what you’ve been doing.
All of the optimists currently trying to cheer their friends up, I’m going to need you to close your mouth. Claims that Trump will go to the middle, that he didn’t mean all those things he said or even that our government can check and balance him. I could care less! When the best thing you can do is say that it won’t be cataclysmic, let the rest of us be sad! I notice a lot of the people pointing out these possible silver linings are white, middle-to-upper class Christian men. You were never the demographic that was threatened. Don’t comment on the upshot. You don’t see me telling deer that hunting season will be fine or pine trees that they have nothing to worry about for the holidays. For a lot of folks, this is a national day of mourning; don’t bring a clown to the funeral.
If all of the absolute defeatists could shut their mouths too, that would be great. Fear mongering accomplishes absolutely nothing. Are we all going to die? In the cosmic sense? No. Duh. It just might be a lot sooner than we originally anticipated. Is there hope or goodness in this world? Questions like that are above my pay grade, though if there was ever a time to become a religious studies major it’s now. Well, given that Trump hates poor people and has no plan for student debt, maybe not. Some of you will say that I’m contradicting myself, attacking optimists and pessimists alike. Really I just want all of you to shut up. Please.
To the Bernie supporters claiming, “This would have never happened if Bernie had been the nominee,” we’re going to play the quiet game. For the next forever and maybe a little while after that. When the gate of time opens, the flames rise from the earth and the rapture begins (I’m ball-parking June 2017, mark your calendars) I still expect you to stay silent. For one, you have no way of knowing for sure whether he would have won. There is no model, no map, no article or database that supports your fantasy. Secondly, you don’t come off as superior; you just come off as whiny. Look a woman in the eye and tell her you were the one who got robbed — I’ll visit you in the ER.
The good news? In this climate of absurdity, I’m almost guaranteed employment, assuming the media isn’t abolished in January. The bad news? That’s the rest of the news. So unless you have actual good news, kindly shut up.
Connor McLean is a Humor writer.
Read More
U.Va. “Tourapocalypse”
By Adair Reid | 3 days agoSpring is a beautiful time for Guides to go on the offensive and really highlight the beauty of Grounds from the pollen-caked sidewalks to the lovely-smelling new mulch.
Dear Power Outlet, My Dearest Darling Love
By Maggie McHaty | 5 days agoMy dearest darling love, the concussion to my midnight snowball fights on the Lawn, the 2023 sewage flood to my Brown Residential College, I know I should not have come back.
University squirrels unionize
By Claudia Hunn | April 11, 2024This week, an unlikely group discovered their own collective power as workers by unionizing — a community of University squirrels now known as the Squirrel Workers’ Guild, or SWG.
