Jess Lahitou

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

That Christmas Eve in Vegas changed me for life. I’ve tried to remember not to deny myself the things I love about the holiday.

Everyone but Michael Moore underestimated the level of economic angst and cultural upheaval occurring in the Rust Belt, that collection of states forming a sloped capital “E” along the Great Lakes: Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania.

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

Tim Kaine and Mike Pence both showed themselves superior to their presidential ticket counterparts. Ouch.

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.

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.

Hello, Americans. Another Wednesday morning, another nightmare day after Tuesday voting. What happened last night? Donald Trump won three out of four states.

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

Is there a difference between what the cigs biz did back in the 1950s and ‘60s and the way present-day pharmaceutical companies have aggressively marketed opioids like OxyContin?