He Wasn’t Worth It

Whatever lasting good comes from the #resistance to Donald Trump’s presidency is overshadowed by the litany of horrors he abetted, inflamed, and unleashed.

Today is the final full day of Donald J. Trump’s presidency.

That’s a strange sentence to have to write. Six years ago, I was reasonably sure that such a thing would never begin. A year ago, I was reasonably sure that the end would come in 2025. And as recently as two weeks ago, I was not reasonably sure that an almost-uniformly craven Republican Party could not find a way to make sure that it never ended.

Attempted coups are funny that way.

(Although, in fairness, when a sunken-faced puffy-eyed patrician in ill-fitting black clothing starts building a Space Force shortly after his rise to power, I suppose you can’t be entirely surprised when he tries to use the Senate to declare himself emperor. George did warn us.)

All the same, here it is, and here we are.

Tomorrow, after a laundry list of pardons that I will doubtlessly spend the rest of the day being annoyed over, Trump will slink away from an increasingly militarized Washington to Mar-a-Lago so that he doesn’t have to share the stage with the man who decisively defeated…