Today's contribution is from Mike McCready from New York City, New York. Each week I seem to come across a new voice I had not heard from before. Are they human? Could any of these writings actually be from Artificial Intelligence? Conspiracy theories multiply.
This was supposed to be their moment.
This was supposed to be the great vindication. The glorious “I told you so.” The moment when every liberal, moderate, economist, historian, journalist, judge, democracy expert, constitutional scholar, retired general, and houseplant with basic pattern recognition had to admit MAGA had been right all along.
Instead, here we are.
No triumphant march.
No grand awakening.
No golden age.
Just a lot of people quietly backing out of the room, avoiding eye contact, muttering something about “the deep state,” and pretending they never loudly guaranteed that all of this would go beautifully.
And yes, I feel sad for them.
Because realizing you’ve been had is painful.
Realizing you spent years defending the indefensible is painful.
Realizing you mistook cruelty for strength, ignorance for authenticity, and corruption for patriotism has to be a difficult emotional pivot.
But I’m also mad.
Very mad.
And I suspect I’m going to be mad for the rest of my life.
I’m going to be mad every time the news explains that America is no longer the unquestioned global superpower because millions of people handed the country to a man who treats geopolitics like a casino buffet dispute.
I’m going to be mad every time goods cost more because global shipping is less secure, trade routes are more expensive, and the country that used to help keep the lanes open decided it would rather posture, pout, and slap tariffs on reality.
I’m going to be mad every time some new “passage tax,” “security surcharge,” “regional instability premium,” or other elegant little phrase for “you broke the world order, now pay at checkout” gets passed down to regular people.
I’m going to be mad if Taiwan is swallowed back into China because America became too chaotic, too divided, too cowardly, or too unserious to defend the system it built.
I’m going to be mad every time traveling to Europe becomes harder because the rest of the world looks at an American passport and no longer sees stability, competence, or trust — just a warning label with an eagle on it.
I’m going to be mad when Americans who used to hop on a plane now need extra paperwork, extra screening, extra approvals, and extra explanations because half the country decided democracy was less important than giving liberals a nervous breakdown.
So yes, I feel bad for MAGA.
But let’s be clear.
They were not tricked by something subtle.
This was not a sophisticated long con involving offshore shell companies, encrypted ledgers, and a charming man named Sebastian with excellent teeth.
This was a man standing in the middle of the room yelling, “I am going to do the bad thing,” while selling hats that said, “I intend to do the bad thing,” surrounded by people explaining that the bad thing was actually very good because it annoyed the right people.
And somehow, millions of people looked at that and said:
“Finally. A statesman.”
The warnings were not hidden.
He told them.
We told them.
His own former staff told them.
The courts told them.
The indictments told them.
The bankruptcies told them.
The tapes told them.
The steaks told them.
The university told them.
The bibles told them, although admittedly not in the way they thought.
At some point, you don’t get to say you were deceived.
You have to admit you volunteered.
That’s the part that makes this so infuriating.
Everyone can be conned.
Good people get manipulated all the time.
But being conned after the entire country spent years pointing at the con man and shouting, “That is a con man,” is a special category of civic achievement.
It’s not just falling for the email from the Nigerian prince.
It’s replying, “Your Highness, ignore the haters. I alone believe in your wire transfer.”
So yes, I feel bad for them.
In the way one feels bad for a man who ignored six “wet paint” signs, sat on the bench anyway, then blamed the bench.
In the way one feels bad for someone who touched the stove, screamed, touched it again, called you a communist for warning him, then started a podcast about stove freedom.
There is compassion here.
But it is compassion with a clenched jaw.
Because this was never unknowable.
This was never mysterious.
This was the most obvious slow-motion disaster in American political history, performed daily in public by a man who treats truth like garnish and the Constitution like a hotel towel.
And now MAGA has arrived at the place everyone else saw coming.
No victory lap.
No grand vindication.
No “I told you so.”
Just regret.
Just excuses.
Just people suddenly pretending they were never that into him.
Unfortunately, we kept the receipts.
The flags.
The hats.
The memes.
The bumper stickers.
The Facebook comments.
The “do your own research” lectures from people who thought YouTube was a law degree.
So yes.
My thoughts and prayers are with MAGA during this difficult time.
May they find healing.
May they find clarity.
And may they someday discover the courage to admit that being fooled is human…
