We were so young and innocent.
I have a post-election dream for Donald Trump.
After he loses to Hillary in an epic landslide, Trump is exiled to a house in Wyoming. His physical needs (food, medical care, hygiene) are met, but much like a “fallen woman” in 19th-century England, he has no social life. There are no neighbors. His wife has deserted him. His children have changed their names and gone into hiding. He has books, TV, newspapers, and the Internet.
His monuments to ego are torn down, and replaced with tasteful architecture. His company is shuttered. All episodes of the Apprentice are destroyed, and all of his books are removed from stores. His Twitter account is deleted.
And there is no mention of him anywhere. An anathema is placed upon his name. No child is ever called Donald again. McDonald’s becomes McDonnell’s, out of shame.
And the complete lack of attention, of infamy, of anything?
It drives Donald Trump crazy.
But his insanity doesn’t matter anymore. HE doesn’t matter anymore.
The country has moved on, after much soul-searching.
His legacy is to have no legacy at all.