If Trump wins, I’ll be tempted to move to Canada. After all, Vancouver is just a few hours’ drive to the north, and Vancouver is beautiful and cosmopolitan and sane. But so is Seattle, and so is Olympia, my hometown. So if Trump wins, I’m going to stay.
If Trump wins, I’m going to stay right here and make a nuisance of myself.
If Trump wins, I’m going to join the resistance. I’m going to put on a trench coat and I’m going to lose the girl and I’m going to start some beautiful friendships. I’m going to sing La Marseillaise in the pub, and then I’m going to get to work.
If Trump wins, I’m going to stay and fight like hell. I’m not going to riot, rail, bully, beat up, or detonate, because all those things only feel good for ten seconds, and only to children and idiots, and then you’re left with more of a mess than you started with. But I will fight, and fight and fight and fight and fight.
If Trump wins, I’m going to fight with weapons more powerful than Trump can ever imagine, because Trump cannot imagine the power of the weapons with which the founders of this great nation armed us. Trump cannot imagine the power of the Constitution because Trump does not know the power of the Constitution. Trump cannot imagine the power of an informed citizenry because Trump does not know the power of an informed citizenry. Trump cannot imagine the power of civic pride because… you get the idea.
If Trump wins, I’m going to help vote in the antidote.
If Trump wins, I’m going to prove to my neighbors and to the world that Trump is not Us. Trump is just the fevered Us, the Us that got away from us in a fit of pique. If Trump wins I’ll confound him through my work, my service as a nurse to my patients, my neighbors, my country. I’ll block Trump through my gifts of time and treasure to my community, especially the people I might imagine can do me no good. I’ll deny Trump his ghoulish version of America through empathy and kindness and laughter and sacrifice. I will exult in the planet around me, in her peoples and her lands. That’ll do him. That’ll frost his little apricots.
If Trump wins, I will unleash upon him the best of me, my Knucklehead, and his formidable generation. We parents will flood Trump with those who didn’t fall prey to our madness, who are better than we because we put only our best into them. Trump is everything we taught our Knuckleheads not to say, not to be. Our Knuckleheads understand that, when we, perhaps, weren’t looking hard enough. Or critically enough. Our Knuckleheads will sigh, shoulder us aside (if we will not follow their lead), and say, “We got this.”
If Trump wins, I will write against him. I will fight Trump with my words (and I know all the best words!) because against words and rational thought and reason, Trump is defenseless. Education cancels Trump. A moment’s pause for reflection cancels Trump.
If Trump wins, I will destroy him by being better than him. And when I fail, as I often do, I will face my failure, atone for it, learn from it, and better myself from it. I will obliterate Trump by being humble and human.
If Trump wins, I will need your help. Alone I’m pitifully weak, but with you, we are two, then three, then countless and insurmountable.
If Trump wins, it’ll be the beginning of the greatest loss Trump has ever shouldered. And remember: Trump has lost billions.
If Trump wins… he doesn’t stand a chance.