By the time you read this I’ll be on the road, heading toward our nation’s capital, where Donald Trump will be sworn in today as the 45th president of the United States.
I can’t believe I just typed that. But know this: He will never be my president.
On Saturday, I’ll be marching alongside thousands of protesters as part of the Women’s March on Washington. Among the protesters will be members of my family. I’m proud of that fact. Since we’ll just be a hop, skip and a jump from the Fuhrerbunker ― formerly known as the White House ― I’ll be sure to give that squirrel-headed bastard a one-finger salute.
It’s impossible to say how this march could turn out. It’s supposed to be peaceful, but you know how it is after you’ve elected Vladimir Putin’s towel boy, the chosen champion of the alt-right (Nazis), the Ku Klux Klan and the NRA ― there could be some people there not too pleased to see us.
I plan to snap a few pictures and write about my experiences after I get home . . . IF I get home. I hear Guantanamo is lovely this time of year.
Meanwhile, assuming you won’t be among the thousands marching with me on Saturday, what can you do instead?
- Other demonstrations are planned all over the country, so please consider attending one in your area.
- Call your senators and congressman. Hey, they might be Republicans, but grow a pair and at least let them know that you’re watching them.
- And this is the important one: Please, please, please support good journalism by subscribing to a traditional or online version of a real newspaper. I know, I know, why pay when you can read for free on Facebook? But listen, real journalism takes real money, and if there’s any hope of bringing these cretins down, the Fourth Estate remains the best chance to do it. Why else do you think Trump is trying so hard to muzzle it? Please support real journalism with a real subscription.
That’s it, folks. If you don’t hear from me in a few days, you can go ahead and assume something bad happened. Please send whatever help you can. The gnomes and I are not as young as we used to be, and we’re not sure how we’ll stand up to waterboarding.