The first intellectual and spiritual misgivings I felt about my failure to support Trump came when he coined the term “Dumocrat”. The realization that “dumb” had the letter “b” in it was like a thunderclap to my smug, insular communist worldview. And then, when he hit me with the one-two punch follow-up of replacing the “e” in “Dem” with a “u” to make it “Dumocrat”, the dawning and dreadful thought, “What if everything I believe is a LIE and he has been right all along?” broke across my mind. For days, I could barely function as the rightness and genius of Trump and the MAGA worldview smashed like a tidal wave against every woke “truth” about love, compassion, empathy, honesty, and integrity I had been rainwashed into elieving.
But old habits–old programming, I should say–die hard. I still had lingering qualms. What if Trump, perfect though he seems, was in some way still mistaken as he held me in the crushing grip of his impeccable logic?
But then, came the coup de grace to my last doubts: He declared a candidate for Senate “pathetic failed Dumocrat Senator, Os(jerk!)off”! What mortal flesh can stand before the power and irrefutable logic of such rhetoric? Why is the Dumocrat party still even legal when our President–nay, OUR MESSIAH!–makes such iron-plated arguments against the vacuity and weakness of his enemies AND MINE! I LOVE BIG BROTHER! I ONLY HOPE HE CAN FORGIVE ME FOR EVER QUESTIONING HIM! I’VE BEEN SO WRONG AND SO BLIND FOR SO LONG. I ABHOR AND ABJURE MYSELF!
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