The Election

Responses to the 2016 presidential election.

Enter Trump

Enter Trump

The event of Trump’s election looked like it was already being absorbed into the banality of the post-material marketplace.

I’m afraid that if I say the wrong thing there might be a knock at my door in the middle of the night, and on the other side of it someone who won’t wait for me to say “come in.”

No President

No President

To what extremes of disobedience and resistant behavior do peaceful Americans know how to go?

It is far better to “overreact” at this moment than not to react—probably better to be wrong, before probable wrongs are done, than to wait and see. It is more important to seize hold of the abnormal, than turn violation into the normal.

Photo Ops

Photo Ops

In victory, Trump has issued a license for jubilation and fervor. It is open season.

On Tuesday night, as the little blue line on the New York Times graph started to plunge to below 50 percent, I began to imagine President-elect Trump embracing the parents of grieving servicemen and servicewomen; Trump greeting a Girl Scout troop on the White House lawn; Trump dedicating a new national park (before privatizing it).

What Are We Trying to Figure Out?

What Are We Trying to Figure Out?

How are mutely inexpressive votes—boxes ticked once every four years by a minority of the voting-age electorate—legible?

Until November 8th, it seemed clear that one thing was going to happen, and now another thing—the exact opposite—happened, and I can’t see how this doesn’t provoke a sense of chagrin and humility.

I Voted for All of Them

I Voted for All of Them

I thought I would watch the results and drink champagne with women I love, and then we’d wake up the next day and begin our dutiful critique.

I watched my Facebook feed fill with friends dedicating their votes to their mothers and grandmothers and daughters. Despite my disillusionment, I began to feel sentimental.

Rise of the Egocrats

Rise of the Egocrats

Trump’s shout-outs, whether to Vladimir Putin or Modi, have resonated across an expanded theater of demagoguery.

Trump’s behavior also manifests the traits diagnosed in Modi, very early in the Indian’s political career, by the social psychologist Ashis Nandy: the American, too, seems a “classic, clinical case” of the “authoritarian personality,” with its “narrowing of emotional life” and “fantasies of violence.”

The Disaster

The Disaster

This is what awaits us, the shell game, the con, the void.

In the corner, a former data wonk for the Sanders campaign is gently knocking his head against the wall. Someone from the TV room says “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Everyone left looks ashen, subdued, older, exhausted.

Enter Trump

Enter Trump

The event of Trump’s election looked like it was already being absorbed into the banality of the post-material marketplace.

I’m afraid that if I say the wrong thing there might be a knock at my door in the middle of the night, and on the other side of it someone who won’t wait for me to say “come in.”

No President

No President

To what extremes of disobedience and resistant behavior do peaceful Americans know how to go?

It is far better to “overreact” at this moment than not to react—probably better to be wrong, before probable wrongs are done, than to wait and see. It is more important to seize hold of the abnormal, than turn violation into the normal.

Photo Ops

Photo Ops

In victory, Trump has issued a license for jubilation and fervor. It is open season.

On Tuesday night, as the little blue line on the New York Times graph started to plunge to below 50 percent, I began to imagine President-elect Trump embracing the parents of grieving servicemen and servicewomen; Trump greeting a Girl Scout troop on the White House lawn; Trump dedicating a new national park (before privatizing it).

What Are We Trying to Figure Out?

What Are We Trying to Figure Out?

How are mutely inexpressive votes—boxes ticked once every four years by a minority of the voting-age electorate—legible?

Until November 8th, it seemed clear that one thing was going to happen, and now another thing—the exact opposite—happened, and I can’t see how this doesn’t provoke a sense of chagrin and humility.

I Voted for All of Them

I Voted for All of Them

I thought I would watch the results and drink champagne with women I love, and then we’d wake up the next day and begin our dutiful critique.

I watched my Facebook feed fill with friends dedicating their votes to their mothers and grandmothers and daughters. Despite my disillusionment, I began to feel sentimental.