The Morning After

The morning after the election, I woke up feeling...

excited.  I think that’s what surprised me most.  I actually felt excitement and hope.  I was looking forward to the future, and even to watching the news again. 

But how could this be?  I’m a liberal…I thought.

And not just any liberal.  A long-time, hardcore proponent of liberal policies.  I was in Grant Park when they called the 2008 election for Obama.  I had a front row seat for what was, at the time, the most historic presidential election in United States history.

Obama wasn’t just the first black president.  He was the culmination of the liberal ideal.  A symbol representing the victory of high ideas and high education over the obviously inferior politics of guns and religion.  Those who didn’t see or understand were simply not smart enough to follow the logic, or the argument, or the math to see how they would ultimately benefit from our better ideas. 

A periodic of political success for the Democrats allowed the left to go unchecked.  They went so far that they alienated the entire country.  When fellow liberals can’t stand you, maybe the problem is you.

Plenty of Democrats are already poo-pooing the historic nature of Trump’s victory.  “If only Biden hadn’t ran,”…blah blah blah…This is dangerous thinking for Democrats.  No other candidate would have been able to undo the perception that Democrats are out of touch with the average American; that they care more about the minority du jour than they do about you.

So flash forward sixteen years and I find myself lapping up the tears of my fellow liberals and basking in the utter completeness of their rebuke by the people.  They took their self-righteous justice warrior-ing too far.  They became the intolerant.  The pure.  The self-arbiters of what is acceptable, publicly shaming any who dare so offend thee.  When you’ve become so egregiously intolerable that your fellow liberals can’t stand you, you deserve to lose an election.