Will Stolzenburg

Dear Revolutionaries,

So what now? That malevolent orange spectre who’s been awakening us to night sweats these past months has proved that nightmares sometimes do come true. It all turned horribly real on the evening of November 8 when the electoral map of Middle America flooded to a sea of hate-hued red. And there on the winner’s stage he stood, the perfect antithesis to honesty, compassion, and service—enemy to every principle of decency we had presumed our republic to be built on. Not in our sickest of dreams could we have built a better monster.

Jeremy Hance

Dear Aurelia,

I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. My darling daughter, your generation is poised to inherit a world far more unstable, dangerous, and chaotic than your mother and I did. And the astounding election of Donald J. Trump will only make this worse.

Late on election night, when I finally realized Trump was going to be our next commander-in-chief, my first thought was: “My God, how will I tell Aurelia?” How do you explain to a five-year-old what just happened?

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