Jess Lahitou

The Republican National Convention ended July 21. If you’re checking the calendar, that puts us at twelve days post-nomination wrap up for Donald J. Trump.

In that tiny window of time, DJT has managed to wreck any conceivable polls-bounce he might have gained from the star-spangled show of pretend Republican unity.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that Democrats and Republicans aren’t getting along so well these days.

For the mental health of underprivileged victims of natural disaster, navigating the aftermath can be as much a struggle as surviving the original disaster.

A few weeks ago, I thought we might actually celebrate the end of the 2016 election.

Democrats need to nominate the person with the best chance of cleaning the floor with Donald Trump. Not just for their own victory, but for the… dare I say, survival of the country itself.

The 2016 election has, for a while now, felt eerily akin to 1984 (lots ‘o doublespeak coming out of Trump and his supporters). Or The Hunger Games, to take a more recent example of dystopian genre fiction. Wherein, government becomes solely about politics and the media spectacle, rather than actual policies and ideas.

I am hesitant to write anything that might tangentially help Donald Trump, because I think the man entirely unfit to be president.

The blatant promise of a career in the spotlight has stripped the Bachelor/Bachelorette of its beautiful, benign lie: that we could watch “regular” people navigate the perils and pitfalls of modern dating, that such a quest was in and of itself enough, and that a happy ending was a real possibility.

This last Friday happened to be the inauguration of President Donald Trump.

So Michael Moore is known as a provocateur.