Were you talking to Putin?

Dear President Trump,

When I wrote you yesterday I’d been assuming your intended audience for the “your dreams will come true if you elect me president” speech was the group of people you were actually talking to, but I realized as I was falling asleep last night this was likely incorrect. My sense now is that the crowd was just a handy vehicle for broadcasting your message to the 1% and the politicians they’d already bought. I can be pretty concrete sometimes. I also wonder whether you were talking to Putin. It’s a bit of a mind-f*** to wrap your head around how this might be, but if Putin was watching you give that speech, he heard that electing you would lead to “every dream you ever dreamed for your country (coming) true” and it would be reasonable for him to think of his country even while Americans assumed you meant our country. It would be pretty amazing if you were thinking strategically on all these levels, but I wouldn’t put this past Bannon and I imagine he would have enjoyed the irony of that double- (triple?) speak. Anyway, I think Putin’s dreams are coming true and he is reveling in the spectacle of our growing chaos as you pit us against one another and throw inflammatory barbs out into the Twitter-verse. He couldn’t have asked for a better stooge.

Plus, the ultra-wealthy people who’ve been pulling the strings for decades are probably clinking their glasses and making toasts to all the Roy Moores who are in the wings taunting and haunting the Republican congress people who haven’t been able to deliver the goods sufficiently quickly. I can almost see them rubbing their hands together in gleeful anticipation of their elected minions going ahead and voting for the evil twin tax and budget bills to save their seats because it will mean their dreams for the increased largesse they can extort from our country are coming true.

On days like this it’s really a stretch for me to remember that each and every one of us is a unique, irreplaceable work of art of intrinsic, unsurpassable worth. I’d really rather just succumb to the much easier idea that you all are evil yourselves, not just your ideas and ambitions, and that like Lin-Manuel Miranda told you earlier today, you are all going to Hell. But I won’t, and instead I’ll send you a blessing.

May we be safe from greedy grabers.
May we be happy to call out greedy grabers.
May our health not be impacted by greedy grabers.
May we all figure out how to coexist.

Sincerely,
Tracy Simpson

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