Congratulations Donald, you won! You’re now the President of the United States! And, even though I vigorously opposed you throughout your campaign, I’d like to take a moment to celebrate your victory because God knows your father wouldn’t.

What your victory means is that everyone who was ever mean to me has someone they can look up to, and that’s important, because their miserable selves need someone who can make them feel special and loved. As the President, you will represent the fulfillment of all their deepest desires, just like Barack Obama showed the black community and the world that black people can become President, and just like Hillary Clinton showed the world that women have a limitless tolerance for dealing with bullshit. You will show bullies that even though they are lazy, they can do great things. That even though they routinely pick on people who are weaker than them, they can still become a respected member of New York’s Elite. That even though they chase after girls who don’t want them, and maybe cup a feel or two, or maybe even rape a woman once or twice because it’s fun for them, they can still become the face and voice of the free world.

And, you know what, it’s important for bullies to feel like they can accomplish great things, because more often than not, society’s sense of right and wrong is rigged against them, and it does a great job of sending bullies the message “your behaviors and attitudes are not welcome here,” so showing them that society can be made to accept them does wonderful things for their self-esteem, because what they need is to feel important and better than everyone else instead of learn how everyone is on the same level and that no one deserves to be made to feel like shit.

And, you know what, everyone else should just get used to be treated like crap, because the truth is that the world’s a tough, unforgiving place, and bullies personify just how tough and unforgiving that world is. To try to make it inclusive and loving is something that only desperate and fragile people do because they are the only people in the world who want to love and be loved. You, Sir, are in a unique position to help this increasingly delicate flower of a planet.

Allow me to explain. I’m going to stop using the word ‘bully,’ because I recognize that it’s unfair and offensive, and what I’m going to do instead is call them “good citizens,” and I’m going to call them good citizens because they remind everyone of how wicked humanity can be. In an era that is dominated by crybabies and people who are just too damn sensitive, the world needs that reminder more than ever. Before you, the only leader of the modern era—in the context of first-world countries--who understood the importance of bullying and nastiness was Adolf Hitler, and it has been far too long since someone picked up his torch. I hope that you use your power to protect and empower the people who make the world tough and unforgiving so that the rest of us never forget what it feels like to feel unloved and persecuted by everyone around them.

Along a similar vein, I’d like to thank you for giving the racists and sexists and xenophobes of this country a voice. For far too long they have been disenfranchised by a system that was gradually turning toward inclusiveness for all, especially those piece-of-shit niggers and smart-ass chinks and Mexicans and fucking Muslims and pieces-of-ass and fags, and it’s about damn time that they had a President who openly represented their interests.

Never before has this country been so lenient to so many people. Who would have thought that a nation founded by men who were Christian, not because it’s politically expedient to call them Christian but because they were actually Christian, would one day allow two fags and two dykes to marry? Sodomy, I tell you, sodomy! Why hasn’t this country been able to follow God’s example with Sodom and Gomorrha and just destroy people who disrespect it? Why was the KENYAN Barack Obama allowed to get away with not saying “radical Islamic terrorism?” Why did Title IX ever become a thing? Did the people who fought for it ever imagine that it would create an atmosphere of oppression and fear? It forces colleges and other institutions to include women in all activities, even one’s they’re not designed for—no one wants to see women playing rugby, let’s be real here—and, in doing so, silences everyone who thinks women should be eye candy and that their voices are too shrill to participate in anything. Fuck Trump? No. Fuck Title IX.

There is an atmosphere of coddling in this country, and it must be destroyed. You, sir, have the power to not just destroy it, but annihilate it and wipe your ass with it and then shove that shit down the throats of everyone who is pretending to be afraid of you because they need attention.

All of those liberal yuppies chanting “this pussy grabs back?” I have news for you, Sir—you can assault them with your words, and you can implore your supporters to assault them, and you and they can keep assaulting them until they have no will to fight, and you will have successfully pushed half of the country out of the political sphere—hell, out of the social sphere. You will have pushed women back into the bedrooms and kitchens, where they need to be ready for men’s needs—your wife Ivana learned her lesson, did she not? Is that not why you assaulted her, so that she would remember her place in the world? You know, if women just remembered who has the God-given right to wield authority, they wouldn’t be raped or assaulted or disrespected. Men would worship them and treat them wonderfully, with the occasional and absolutely necessary and appropriate slip-up after a bad day at the office or a week of no-sex because they have blood and who-knows-what-else oozing out of their bodies—and where they need to be able to make our food, and make it well. There’s nothing more upsetting than coming home to undercooked chicken, am I right?

I want the women in my life to be walking around in fear. I want them to be window-shopping on Fifth Avenue and worry that the men walking behind them will reach down and just grab ‘em. Fear keeps people submissive, and submissive people, by definition, cannot fight back, and I want society to create a class of submissive people, and I want my sisters and my mother and my friends and my teachers to be part of that class. Not only am I greatly concerned about the consequences fighting someone as morally outstanding as you will have on their psychological and emotional health but I am deeply, deeply worried that unless they are trained to be submissive, they will become depressed and sullen and moody after defending themselves against increasing numbers of street-harassers and incidences of office harassment and just general harassment. For their well-being, I want you and your supporters to objectify women so much that they will never again want to put in the effort to stand up for themselves, because then they’ll be safe, and then they’ll be able to do what they’re meant to do: comfort and soothe our raging and in no-way pathetically weak masculinity.

What women these days don’t understand is that they exist for men’s pleasure. Feminism and academia have done a great job of corrupting their minds and filling them with false hopes about equality between the sexes. The truth is—and you know this, Sir—that there can never be peace between two groups of people when one is designed to dominate the other. Women physically need to be filled with us in order to be whole people. This isn’t a debate, but modern women have been trained to think it is. The patriarchal culture, in the form of ads on television and negative stereotypes perpetuated by school-age womanizers in classrooms across the U.S.A, does its best to teach women the truth and to spare them the pain of fighting for something that can never be achieved, but the damn liberals always get to the best of ‘em with their lies and false promises.

People will believe anything and anyone if their deepest fears are acknowledged. Poor women, always being lied to, always being told they’re better than they really are. You know what it’s like to have your emotions toyed with. I’m sure that every time you have responded to a beautiful woman’s existence, you have been treated with contempt. How dare women be pretty and be unappreciative of your advances! How dare they make you think they want you!

While I’m talking about women, I want to briefly discuss abortion, since I think that it’s an issue that really shouldn’t be one.

Why the fuck do women think it’s okay to murder babies! I mean, everyone knows women who get abortions are bitches and sluts who have serious entitlement problems and who just cannot accept their second-class status—someone needs to undo the harm feminism has done to their fragile psychologies. Planned Parenthood? No! Paternalistic Porno Power: Restoring Women’s Natural Femininity and Resculpting Their Flabby Stomachs and Boob-Sacs! Just defund Planned Parenthood and throw the money at an organization that actively works to restore the power of the patriarchy and the power of the male gaze, and you’ll have a solid, unshakeable Presidency that no one will challenge, since, secretly, everyone wants women to just shut the fuck up and be scorchers.

And, plus, a government that funds the murder of babies is not a government worth supporting. You want to stay in power? Defund Planned Parenthood immediately. The biggest crime that you could possibly commit as the most powerful person on the planet, who is in charge of the world’s most powerful military and has access to a jaw-droppingly huge nuclear arsenal and who, if he really wanted to, could flout international conventions on the rules of war, would be to continue to give women the legal chance to murder defenseless human beings. Defunding Planned Parenthood should really be a priority of yours.

Plus, no one wants to grab a pussy that’s gone through an abortion. It just makes the whole thing weird.

If I can turn to the task of making your agenda for women a reality--As part of your unique and revolutionary initiative to commit domestic terrorism against American women, I propose appointing Bill Cosby to fill Joe Biden’s shoes as the nation’s Title IX enforcer/watchdog. No one understands how to subdue, dominate, and traumatize women more than Bill Cosby. You know his record—fifty women, possibly more, over the course of several decades, and while he was married, too! He managed to physically and emotionally damage—but in a good way. We want our women damaged—all the women he raped, and emotionally scar his wife, and possibly physically, too! Think about it—he’s really a top-notch rapist. He managed to hide that from the public for decades, and from his wife, too! That, or he regularly raped his wife and brainwashed her into thinking he was a good person, which is, admittedly, a good skill for a rapist to have under your regime, since if all of their victims see them as a good person, they’ll be less likely to speak up about their actions and, by extension, any perceived misogyny on your part. Once Bill Cosby is appointed, and everyone’s adapted to his unique speaking style, have him lead some seminars on how to 1) seduce and rape and 2) brainwash people. If you have the time, you could lead the brainwashing seminars, since you’ve managed to brainwash all of your children into being little versions of you—which is, again, an admirable feat. It’s not easy to systematically destroy the psychological well-being of anyone, much less five people. Employ that same tactic against anyone who disagrees with us, and the planet will be in a full-blown environmental catastrophe in ten years, which will be perfect for your big money, big business friends, because that will give them another opportunity to profit off human misery while doing something seemingly good with their company (their workers should be underpaid, too. Gotta maintain class inequality in order for there to be stability. 1984. Read it. Good book. Your kind of book, too, I think.)—but, I have to say, you really shouldn’t lead the Seduce and Rape Seminars, since it seems to me that your specialty is mostly overpower and dominate, then rape. Bill has a much more congenial approach, and, in my opinion, you should go with Bill’s style so that rape culture is that much more insidious and psychologically and emotionally devastating.

Do better than Bill, Mr. Trump. Do better than Bill. He got fifty? Rape at least sixty while you’re President. That way, you’ll prove to the world that you are indeed more promiscuous than a black man—I mean, you’ve already demonstrated that you can take and destroy everything a black man has created, so you might as well go the whole way—and you’ll have the honor of being the first serial rapist in the White House since good ol’ Thomas Jefferson. It’s been far too long since the man who sat in the Oval Office governed with his dick—and that needs to change, because the last time that happened, we got all of the Louisiana Territory. With your penis determining this country’s policies, I’m sure we could have all of Canada, Mexico, and probably France—just to make them regret being losers during the Two World Wars—by 2020.

France needs you, too. Their political system is tearing itself apart. This crazy bitch called Marie Le Pen is attempting to seize power and turn France into a nationalistic nation that refuses to help refugees and severely cracks down on illegal and legal immigration into the country. You, Sir, are the President of all the people, and you are a master unifier—look! The Republican party is lining up in droves to fondle your balls!—so please annex France and save them from themselves. The Western World can’t afford to be unraveled by someone as insane and unstable as Marie Le Pen. Just think about the kind of catastrophe that would bring to millions of workers, [AD1]and to the very idea of globalization, which allows companies like yours to become so successful! Ludicrous! Terrifying! Shocking! She must never become France’s President, and you must stop her.

America was never great before you, Donald. You are the first time in our nation’s history that anyone is going to effect real change in Washington and in our society, and that change is going to lift America off the ground and keep lifting it until it’s higher than heaven, and God himself wants to illegally immigrate into our great country (which, of course, you won’t allow since illegal immigration is a social evil perpetuated by people who claim to be poor so they can so-called flee to this country and find a so-called better life but who are really just interested in violently deflowering our women and murdering our city youth—those are the jobs of white American men with star power and inner-city niggers. Besides, would you really want God living in your America? Tbh, Donald, you might be the greatest man who has ever lived, but, you said it yourself, no one can compete with God, and, frankly, you’ve done some things that God, the dude who decides if you can enjoy the afterlife for all eternity or have uncontrollable muscle spasms in a room full of barbed wire for all eternity, won’t exactly smile upon.) So change this country, Sir—make us great again by taking us back to the time of the Revolution when white men wielded authority without opposition and women knew their place and our society condoned the gradual slaughter of another civilization.

By the way, I love how delicately you have interwoven your ego and the correct idea of America. America is whatever Donald wants it to be, whenever he wants it to be that way! And only your way! No foreign country can ever buy you, no foreign leader can ever stroke your metaphorical dick—or actual one—no politician can threaten you with impeachment if you do not adhere to their agenda! No one! No not no one! You are Donald Trump, President of the United States, and you are one hundred percent your own man and five thousand percent not a puppet!

Really, Hillary and the other business-as-usual politicians are the puppets, since they are so devoted to their own success that they are willing to lie to their constituents in order to respect the agendas of the people who are helping them to stay in power.

But, like, you’re right, Donald, when you say that no leader since Nixon has done anything noteworthy. Obama giving twenty million Americans health insurance? Fuck him! Obama cutting the deficit by two-thirds? What a douchebag! Those were supposed to be your glories! I am so sorry that you’re work was stolen by a black man in a glaring and dastardly example of reverse racism and possible passive-aggressive bullying. And yes, I mean that, Donald. While Obama was in the Senate, he would spend hours meditating in his traditional Kenyan bean-bag chair smoking nigger drugs and thinking about ways he could fuck with you, a New York businessman that he as a dumb nigger-fuck was threatened by because he knew that he would never, ever be as good or decent or charitable as you, you the model white man, and one day, it came to him in a puff of witch doctor smoke—he would steal your dream of giving healthcare to millions of Americans, and he would reduce the deficit that he would cause by shoving his hand up George Bush’s ass and forcing him to create a spending and housing crisis so that he could stop you from being an economic champion for the country. Such corruption.

I know this happened because you said so on Twitter. I know that you’re probably going to deny that, but hey, Donald, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me. Here, there is no hatred or disgust or rage for you. Here, there is only loving acceptance, and I encourage you, since I suspect that you’re not as secure as you want people to believe you are, to tell me every dark and dastardly thought and suspicion you have, because you can trust that I will think about them and respond to them. Please, Donald, open up to me so that I can ease your pain, and please, be honest with me.

While we’re on the subject of your vision of America, I’d like to mention that your plan to extremely vet all Muslim immigrants to this country is pure genius. Completely original, practical to implement, necessary for a society that is being beseiged by Muslims every second of every day...it’s great. But you have to admit, this idea of extreme vetting does cloud people’s conception of Muslims. In this case, Sir, I think you have fallen victim to your own rhetoric. Not all Muslims are bad, or worthy of being extremely vetted—the members of ISIS and other religious organizations are, by your standards, admirable people. They make sure their women understand that, as women, they are second-class citizens. They are passionate about what they believe in. They believe in doing whatever is necessary to get on top. They are devoted to the idea of making the Middle East great again.

Most importantly for you, though, they (radical islamic terrorists) are willing to reject their country’s history in order to promote their agenda, which is the way it needs to be done. Tear down the Washington Monument, I say. Washington was a pussy-footing coward who openly advocated for democracy without any parties and who thought to advance his own public image by refusing to seek power after the Revolution was won. He is not a figure that needs to be remembered in your America, which will be devoted to success and, as I’ll explain below, a combative and reflective kind-of-love.

If you want to build a new monument in its place, I recommend building the Jefferson Davis Monument—a giant white penis that periodically spews out liquid that is designed to react only to the genes of black people. Great Addition to the DC skyline. It’s about time that a monument to the Great and Glorious Confederacy can be seen from miles away. And it’s about time that a monument hurts people, too! Well, I mean, niggers technically aren’t people, but it’s a start—we don’t want them here anyway, right? Might as well use a great architectural innovation to eliminate them as a potential threat, because that’s what they are. The niggers are a threat to your Presidency. Face it, Donald—they’re never going to love you the way you want to be loved. They’re going to insist on protesting, on disrupting your rallies, on hating on your dearest friend David Duke—just get rid of them, please. You’d be doing yourself a service, and the entire world, frankly. Look at Africa! Niggers can’t do anything right! (Even Nelson Mandela spent a large portion of his life behind bars. Had he been doing it right, he wouldn’t have been arrested. Just don’t look too closely at everything he accomplished after he was released from prison. And don’t look too closely into the history of the Mali Empire, or the Nubian Empire, and definitely, definitely do not make an attempt to understand the cultures of the various indigenous tribes that prevent African rulers from having complete control over their countries. And most definitely do not have empathy for anyone in Africa, at all. Do not do that, because once you have empathy for them, you’re going to start treating the niggers like human beings, and not as the 2/5 animals that they are.)

This country has an unfortunate history of pretending like niggers are real people, and that unfortunate history is depicted in many of the monuments that decorate the city you will soon be spending most of your time in. The Lincoln Memorial is a glaring affront to the idea that niggers deserve respect, and Martin Luther King Jr. gazes out on the Potomac, secretly hoping that no one exposes him as one of those people who, much like the academics who manipulate women into becoming feminists, prey upon peoples’ deepest fears and use them to gain notoriety and honor.

Tear those monuments, and any other monument that pays respect to anyone who is not a straight white patriotic perfect man—this includes the FDR memorial. That this country should elect someone who couldn’t fucking walk is embarrassing. The people who are accusing you of being an embarrassment have never seen a person in a wheelchair act as if they had dignity—down so that you can convince people of the narrative that America is a nation without flaws, and one that has always respected everyone, since the loftiest of our nation’s thinkers were straight white patriotic perfect men who had the best interests of everyone of every creed, nationality, race, sex, and sexual orientation in mind.

Duh. Thomas Jefferson said “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights.” Boom. Right there. In our country’s founding document.

Seriously, Black Lives Matter people, read a fucking textbook.

Do what you can to promote the narrative of a perfect America, because we have a lot of people here--like the Black Lives Matter people, who do read textbooks, but those textbooks are so clogged with lies like ‘blacks are people too’ and ‘blacks have been routinely mistreated by America for centuries’ that they might as well be porn for all the intellectual good they do for the people who read them—need to believe in that narrative in order to lead happy lives.

And can I mention how much the cries of ‘Build that wall! Build that wall!’ excite me? Yes, Donald, yes! I can’t tell you how personally excited this makes me. Back when I was in fourth grade, I entertained fantasies about building a wall across the Mexican border because at that time I was independent-minded and wasn’t just parroting things I’d heard my parents say, and it’s so vindicating to see an adult working to make a childish fantasy a reality! While you’re at it, can you turn the Middle East into a giant parking lot? Their cultural history is completely irrelevant to the future of this planet, and, let’s be honest, no one likes Muslims. No one has ever liked Muslims. They’re just rude, smelly, and annoying people who talk like they have someone throttling their throat on the inside. Please do everyone, including the deceased trillions who have said “Oh my God not another Arab” a favor and just blast the shit out of the entire Middle East, civilian populations and all. Burn mothers while they’re holding their children. Burn fathers while they’re working. Burn children after they’ve been raped by yours and Joseph Epstein’s paedophilic legions. Burn everything, because they’re not going to have the luxury of burning in hell—not even Lucifer wants to be near a Muslim. After the first Muslim spoke, he was like “And I thought I was disgusting.”—so just give them something that approximates hellfire.

No, I take back the parking lot thing. After you’ve burnt the Middle East—and Africa, while you’re at it. Just wipe that off the planet so that those stupid starving children ads will never again assault our bloated consciences and push fucking liberals to throw away money that can be put back into the market by purchasing quality goods like Trump Steaks and Trump Dildos—which comes with a built-in GPS locator since it’s so small any person who uses it will have to dig it out of their vagina or asshole or wherever else it might be—and Trump Wifebeaters—baseball bats with your name on them—work on turning all that sand into glass. Once the entire former Middle East is just one giant window pane, send in the blue-collar workers—you might want to do this while you’re busy being a corrupt politician—Donald, everyone who voluntarily enters Washington is in someway corrupt—so that they don’t get the full blow that comes from being let down by someone as honest as you—to cut it up and ship the parts back to the United States, and then use more blue-collar workers to turn those pieces into glass panes that men can connect to a complicated neck apparatus, that will be worn only by women, in such a way that women are constantly reminded of how they are living beneath a glass ceiling. If you want to make sure that they understand this, you can build the apparatus in such a way that if the woman tries to remove the glass window pane, the apparatus will move it out of her reach (a la Tantalus), and if she breaks it, she is raped, and if someone else removes it for her, that person gets her job and income and two million dollars for existing.

So yeah. Turn the Middle East into the world’s first Glass Field.

And, while you’re building that wall and turning one of the world’s most ethically and culturally diverse regions, from whose sands modern medicine and mathematics once flowed, into a glass field, could you also, like, build a time machine and create money trees? Those are going to be things that the world is going to need. Based on the election results, almost the entire planet is going to need a time machine so they can go back to a time when the world was safe—not that you’re to blame, Donald. Every world leader who said something mean about you and your hands and your hair will be to blame for the impending nuclear winter. When France suggests that your voice has a constant whine, just drop a bomb on the Louvre and wipe out centuries of Western Culture, as retaliation for France’s insubordination, and for the West’s utter failure to adequately honor you in its ancient art—and they’re also going to need to take money trees with them, because valuable currency’s going to be hard to come by when the world’s water supply is radioactive, and it’s going to be hard to come by in whatever time period they transport themselves to, because time travelers have a notoriously difficult time being accepted by the new-old society.

Now, Mr. Trump, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to get philosophical for a moment. I know, I know. Philosophy’s for boring old people who have nothing better to do with their time but spew out fancy-sounding phrases while they’re dying. But bear with me, because while philosophy is boring, I think that it can speak volumes if one reads the right kinds of things at the right moments in their lives, and, right now, I think I can write the right kinds of things for you at this moment in your life.

They say a man is measured by his loves. I don’t know who ‘they’ is, but I know ‘they’ said it. I’ve seen it on Twitter feeds, so it must be a valid statement. But if that’s true, we have to ask ourselves, “What do ‘they’ mean by love?” And that leads us to a rather complicated line of questioning—is there an absolute concept of love? Is it relative? An action? A feeling? What’s a man? How do you measure love?[AD2]

Permit me a moment to attempt to answer these questions, because, moving forward as a country, the idea of love will be critical to healing the deep, deep ideological divide that allowed someone with such amazing credentials as yourself to assume the Office of the Presidency, which, as you’re learning, is a disgustingly difficult job.

But don’t panic, Mr. President-Elect. Barack Obama had little experience in government when he became President—it was one of the many criticisms leveled against him--and he did just fine, so chances are you will too.

Of course, if you’re of the opposite perspective, that he was a terrible President, then, if we’re going to think analagously, your chances aren’t great. It is possible that he was a terrible President, and that, since you’re Donald Trump, you’ll be great by default, but then I’d have to ask you to outline exactly how Obama was terrible, and, speaking frankly, Sir, he wasn’t amazing—I mean, he’s black. Their best is our mediocre—but he wasn’t bad, either. If you’re going to compare yourself to Obama, you have to think of him as being a decent President, then, and make predictions about your future as an unexperienced politician based on that.

Still, I think your chances are good, because, historically speaking, leaders who have zero experience in politics tend to perform much better than leaders with little experience, like Obama, and leaders with, say, thirty years of experience, like Crooked Hillary. They do say in improv classes designed to boost self-esteem that the best way to live life is to just wing it, and that seems like the best approach one can take to a job in which one is responsible for a) the lives of hundreds of millions of people and b) the well-being of the planet.

But to return to the idea of love—what is love, and how is it shown? Why is it important to love? What does it do for a man?

Now, don’t mistake this for condescension, Sir. I know that you are a loving individual—your first two wives gushed about how much you cared about them, and the fact that your five children all have some role in the real estate/marketing business, much like you do, suggest that you loved them enough to mold them into little versions of you, since by being little versions of you and not independent individuals, their safety would be guaranteed. No one wants to mess with a Trump, right? And the more like you they are, the more chances you have to look at people, see yourself, and love yourself, and you and I both know how important it is for you to look in literal and metaphorical mirrors. I’d be surprised if you didn’t decorate the Oval Office with mirrors. You need to see yourself constantly, and see other people as you, in order to feel safe and secure, which is a completely legitimate attitude to have. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Individuals and societies prosper when everyone is a reflection of them. That way, political consensus is easy to reach, and you don’t have to worry about anyone giving you a hard time. Don’t worry, Sir. I understand—I just want to make sure that the readers understand what love is. In that little digression, I think I touched upon what love is, but I’d like to make it explicit. To respond to the question, ‘What is love?,’ I propose the answer ‘Turning everyone around you into some version of yourself.’ You know you’re awesome, and you want other people to feel that awesome, yes? And you know that if other people aren’t like you, then you get angry and lash out at them, so it’s ultimately better for them to just do what you want, because that way, they don’t get hurt. The idea that love is about respecting another person’s individuality is outdated. It is no longer a practical way to survive in the social world. For decades, our society has been slowly gyrating towards the above conception of love, and you, Sir, are that society’s final product. In you, people see the same love they practice in their daily lives—refusing to respect people of other religions because their religion is the right one, needing to surround one’s self with people who agree with them and never challenge them, people who feel like they can say whatever they want without consequence, people who don’t take the time to understand other people’s perspectives...yes, Sir, you are the fruit of that society, and I mean that quite literally. During the earlier part of the twentieth century, when people cared about the other kind of love, you would have been written off as a disgusting toad—although your cavalier attitudes about women probably would have been respected and lauded, since, back then, women weren’t seen as people who needed reproductive rights.

But I also think it would have been harder for you to become, well, you. I have no doubt that you would have been as brash and bold as you are now, but, you have to admit, Sir, a large part of your life has been devoted to your stardom, and, back then, it would have been next to impossible for you to get the kind of exposure that you have today. You’d be Donald Trump, only you wouldn’t have the name recognition that you have today.

That name recognition is essential for the kind of love your Presidency is symbolically ushering in (and, make no mistake, Mr. President, your victory is more than a victory. It is an event that has monumental import for large swaths of the population. For your supporters, you represent the success of all things Donald. Every time someone punished them for being rude, they were hurt, and you are their great vindication. For those who oppose you, you represent an end to their way of life, since their thin-skinned ways cannot survive beneath the rule of a man as tough and morally righteous as you.) which is the kind of love that comes not from within, but from without, the kind of love that dies if one is not the center of attention, if one is not the most admired, if anyone says anything critical about the individual, the kind of love that can metaphorically be described as circle-jerking and ‘living in an echo chamber’ and ‘blowing me,’ and it’s great that you’re bringing this kind of love to the forefront of American society, since any relationship and any nation that prioritizes this kind of love historically succeeds at everything they seek to accomplish. You yourself are a shining example of that. You surround yourself with people who will love you this way, and you are the President of the United States! Hopefully your example will be a wake-up call to people who demand emotional depth and sensitivity from their love. Not only are those the people who have been, who are, and who will be extremely aggravating to you and everyone like you, but they are also individuals who need to learn that depth and sensitivity are for those who have no desire to succeed, and seem to love being let down, disappointed, and abused, since they are the ones who will repeatedly enter relationships where they can be hurt. They are irritating and irritatingly vulnerable, and, if we look at them though the lens of Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity—doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the same results—they are also in dire need of psychological assistance, since they are more likely than not clinically insane.

In life, success matters more than anything, does it not? Without success, people cannot have jobs. Without success, all the children in a family cannot have their own bathroom. Without success, you can’t show off how rich you are without prompting at perfectly innocuous dinner parties. Nor can you belittle anyone who isn’t as succesful, or risks becoming as successful as you. When you’re not successful, you can’t belittle people because you yourself are a failure. But if you’re a success, then you have earned the right to bully pretty much anyone you’d like, a right you so proudly and shamelessly flaunted during your campaign. Forget being gracious—when someone poses a risk to your sense of self, even if they just look at you the wrong way at the wrong moment because they hadn’t had enough coffee that morning, they need to be belittled and put down instead of being respected and even engaged in a healthy competition to determine who’s more successful or whatever, because your sense of superiority is threatened by, again, something as seemingly innocent as a person who frequently smiles and laughs, then you need to protect yourself first, because by protecting yourself from such offensive and intentional slights, you are protecting your own success.

This attitude, this idea that a threat to the self is a threat to success, is pervasive throughout our culture, especially among millenials (they have their flaws, as the recent bout of protests has shown, but this is one of their strengths). I hope that you model for them appropriate ways to use that concept of love as a tool for success and give them the strength they need to keep on keeping on when the people they care about abandon them in droves because they can’t handle the fierceness that this kind of love necessitates and that you never ever implore them to start being compassionate because compassion is a sissy emotion—and one that only women feel because women pathologically think they are being treated like shit and they compensate for that delusion by loving everyone around them. Not only is it a sissy emotion, it’s one that only women and weak people feel—and not a sign of emotional maturity like the so-called experts would have everyone believe.

As I mentioned before, the world is a cruel, cruel place, filled with liars and back-stabbers, and compassion and the other, outdated-kind-of love are not appropriate responses to all the terrible things the world has to offer. You understand this best—looking down upon Manhattan from your Penthouse has given you plenty of opportunities to contemplate how beneath the hustle-bustle and the razzle-dazzle, thousands of people—predominantly niggers—are being exploited and bullied and murdered in the streets, and how, in the glow of that razzle-dazzle, husbands are mistreating their wives and lovers are deliberately making the people they claim to love miserable and children are screaming and whining because their parents insist on spoiling them instead of teaching them to be good; and this ‘good’ world limps forward, thrusting its bloody hands into the future and grabbing whatever it needs to grab in order to survive, all the while denying that its hands are bloody and that it is in terrible need of a savior.

You understand this better than anyone, Donald. I don’t know if anyone is more qualified to save the world than you. How hard it must be to wake up, knowing that while you just want the best for everyone and that you are willing to do everything you can to make the world great for everyone, people will insist on disagreeing with you, perhaps even slapping you with the label ‘narcissist’ without any understanding of what that word actually means—someone who is ugly on the inside because they have no conception of boundaries and believe that the world needs to constantly admire them even if they are a walking piece of human shit and who do not have the capacity to feel emotions, like the outdated love, and whose smiles are consequently gross and disturbing because they are just contortions of facial muscles and are completely devoid of all emotional content--even as the world is crumbling around you and chaos and hatred rule the streets unchecked because you are unable to give the world your firm hand and just wisdom. You have spent decades slogging around the muck that pretends to be civilization, you have spent millions of dollars trying to rise above it, sometimes succeeding because you’re great, and sometimes failing because everyone around you is an idiot, and now, now Donald you have the power to do something about it. I beg you to use your in-depth knowledge of the muck that is the human race to inform your Presidency and to help the American people become muck-less.

Humans, after all, have only ever been saved by people who are so righteous that they are inhuman, and you, Sir, are more righteous than any of them. Just think—if Hitler and Stalin and Zedong had just been a little more self-righteous, they could have ushered in the first Golden Age of Globalization. I say this will all my heart—no one has ever been as self-righteous as you, so I beg you to use that self-righteousness to set the world right.

And feel free to do whatever you need to. People will eventually rally around a man who believes it’s okay to kill the families of terrorists and thereby flout established conventions of war and basic human decency as long as that man is becoming powerful enough to be a near-deity for the human race. Don’t worry about what Camus says about resistance being an essential component of the human spirit, and how it is impossible for anyone to forcibly establish dominance over anyone no matter how good their intentions are—you have enough passion for yourself and your power that you’ll be able to deal with any resistance movement with ease. Don’t bother preparing to deal with a long, drawn-out fight against you, spurred on by a deep, deep rage that their humanity is being threatened, and a furious fear for themselves and their neighbors, and an incomprehensible love for the human race that some people say you can never understand because you are a narcissistic sociopath and you have become blind as a result of making out with your reflection too many times during your seventy years of life. Don’t prepare for that—just do what you can to silence the opposition from the get-go, sit back, and listen to the world heap praises upon you.

If I can circle back to the original statement—‘they say a man is measured by his loves’—I’d like to explicitly state that I think your ability to love yourself is unprecedented in human history, and that all of the behaviors and attitudes that originate from this extreme self-love—worrying about other people’s well-being to the point where you forbid them from being themselves because you know that the world will just eat them up if they don’t become as hard and fierce as you, punishing anyone who disagrees with you, thinking of yourself as a savior—will make your Presidency a hugely eventful and prosperous one.

You will have more attention and power than ever before, Donald, and after the world realizes how great you are, and after you either exterminate your opponents or terrorize your dissenters and detractors into silence, you will be worshipped by men, and only men, for centuries. They will build monuments to you, Donald. They will gather in their small-town squares and construct massive marble statues with fully erect penises that, proportionally, are over a foot long and ballsacs that would fit comfortably in the massive hands of a basketball superstar. You would have an eight-pack ab, you would have biceps that could crush a hipster’s skull, fingers that could plow into a women’s pussy and give you pleasure as many times as you’d like, and hair that would be so perfect, no one would ever make fun of you for it again.

I mean, that’s why you ran, right? For the statues and the prestige, right? Not because you have any serious desire to have the most stressful, demanding, and regularly lampooned and mocked jobs on the planet? Where you are responsible for over three hundred million people, half of whose eligible supporters are currently in the midst of planting the seeds of a movement that will sweep you and your cronies and blowjob buddies out of power and into prisons with other rapists where you belong?

Sorry, I’ve been hanging around too many liberals. They got to me there.

In conclusion, just so we’re clear, Mr. Trump, while I am pledging my body and soul to you, and while I will be writing more letters to you that are just as celebratory as this one, I will also be surrounding myself with liberal cry babies, so that I can talk to them incessantly about your policies; and so that, after listening to my so-called marginalized friends overreact, when I write you, I can tell you exactly how strongly they are overreacting so that you know exactly what you are dealing with.

I will explain to my students that you want to deport their families not because you don’t like them, but because you love America, and the best America is a white America.

I will make sure that my disabled family and friends understand that you want to rightly punish disabled people for committing the crime of being imperfect.

I will make sure that my LGBTQ+ friends understand that you just want what’s best for them, that you just want them to love the right kind of people, that you are in fact deeply saddened that their existence threatens their souls and not the continued existence of a rigidly defined and socially enforced kind of love.

I will make sure that you know just how much the women in my life love you—and let me tell you, all of them are so beautiful, so, so beautiful, that, if they were alone in a room with you, and you told them to undress, they would refuse to do it because your campaign has shown them that you’re not good enough for them. Sorry, Donald, but beauty apparently has [AD3]boundaries. They do love you, though--They cry every time someone says your name. They weep, really. Hell, they were crying on election night when it was announced you would be their President—and I know how much you need to hear a woman profess her love for you because I know that every time after your father finished verbally assaulting you for being a failure, you ran to your mother, and she pressed you close to her big squishy breast, and whispered to you, and sang to you until you stopped crying, and you were ready to try to please your father again. I know that every time a woman says “I love you,” you think of your mother, and you feel confident that you can take on a world that insists on hating you no matter what you do.

Only, Donald, I have to ask—every time you grab a woman by her vagina, do you think of your mother? Do you imagine your hand forcing its way up there? Do you imagine her yelling at you? Do you think it’s funny that she’s yelling at you because she’s your mom and she will forgive you because you’re her little snook-ums? Did you think of your mother when you were raping Ivana? Is that why it was so violent? Because you were furious at your mother for failing to comfort you after big mean Da-da didn’t give you what you wanted?

Oh my God, Donald. You raped your mother. You raped your mother.

And, I am curious--Were you angry with yourself for thinking of your mother while you were raping Ivana? Were you ashamed?

And that leads me to a larger question--Do you feel shame, Donald? Do you feel anything? Or has your whole life been one giant and failed attempt to feel something so that you could be rid of the incredibly heavy burden of forcing the world to believe that you are a God? Is that why you insist on throwing your name everywhere, so that people can look at you and think “Donald Trump is awesome” and you can feel something that resembles happiness?

Is that why you ran for President, because you wanted to guarantee that you would be admired by everyone, and that by being admired by everyone, you would never feel...whatever it is that you feel or don’t feel everyday that makes your life matter so little?

I pity you, Donald, because you, you deformed marble statue of an excuse of a man[AD4], will die without ever having felt the sweet, sweet vulnerability and fragility of love, and that is truly, truly tragic.

No matter what you do to this planet, be it good or bad, there will always be millions of people out there who are good, and kind, and gracious, and vulnerable, and who can say “Enough,” and be content to watch the sunset with their children on the beach even though they did not catch all the fish they wanted, or, say, sell as many houses during their vacation as they would have liked, and those people will be the ones who, after you’re gone, will make the world great every fucking day.

Those kinds of people have been doing just that for centuries without you, and they’re doing it now in spite of you because they know what it means to love—it is a feeling that is too real to be abstracted and too delicate to be understand by a brute like you--and they don’t need you to make their worlds or their Americas great, so I hope you’re shaking as you pack up your precious Penthouse, because those people are going to be the ones who will make your reign a living nightmare for you, because they will publicly and loudly deny you the love that you so desperately want from them because they either know or they will learn that you are unworthy of it and nothing you can do will convince them otherwise.

Just.

Like.

Dad.

Fuck you,

Nicholas