I fervently hope that things are not so bad as they tonight appear to be, to me. I genuinely fear that they are in fact more horrible than my worst nightmares.
My good and dear conservative family and friends, this is bad. Donald Trump is not our savior, despite his messianic bravado. Donald Trump is not by any stretch of the imagination Jesus Christ. He is not even Ronald Reagan, whom, I'm sure, could not by his own admission I am also sure tie Our Lord's sandal straps. Reagan was a principled idealist, a man who saw both the ideal and the real and sought to work in reality with an eye towards the ideal. A man who knew that a united people working on right principles could actually inch towards a Heaven on Earth. This man, the Donald, this hero of yours, is an egotist on the supreme ego trip. He wants to be the President of the United States as though it were a mere prize in a radio contest. That's essentially the same mentality which elected Barack Obama. And you see what that has wrought.
Donald Trump is not our savior. He is rather a bombast, hurling grenades at paper targets for his own ends. Perhaps he is regal, and I am misinterpreting him. Perhaps I am not understanding American themes and he reads history better than I, though I am not sure that is a positive. Perhaps he is the real deal, and I am a dinosaur. Perhaps.
Yet perhaps he is the iconoclast without direction. And where, I ask, might that lead us?