Let’s be honest. The problem isn’t just in the bots making crazy posts, the tailgating Camaro, the halfwit half-brother or the dipshit daughter-in-law. It’s in all of us. As nice as it is to blame an unhinged president, or fentanyl and oil or lockdowns and raids, that’s missing the point. Why did we let it happen? What did we do? What about me and you?

I went to a Ratdog concert (with Bob Weir) at The Beacon Theater in 2006, introduced by none other than Donald Trump. It was a joke for most, many yelling out “You’re fired!” But how did he get there? Why did we let him on the stage? I mean, really, why did we do that?

That orange bloated monster is all of us, that fear and anger, that vainglorious stupidity that we’re better than we are, that we deserve more than we have. As much as we might hate to admit that we’re in a fat suit and our skin just isn’t right, we are that fucking guy.