It’s morning, New Years Day, 2030. After a night of revelry, Americans are waking up to a dancing hologram, by now familiar, floating over their beds. Donald Trump’s three-dimensional image gyrates enthusiastically if irrhythmically to the dreaded YMCA song, tiny fists boxing the air as everyone grabs the covers. Swinging a flyswatter, throwing a shoe or spraying disinfectant at the specter does nothing; running is equally pointless as Trump’s hologram dances right along into the bathroom.

Since 2012, the U.S. Dept. of Justice has defined rape as “the penetration, no matter how slight, of the vagina or anus with any body part or object … without the consent of the victim.” To be redundant, no penis is required. 

With the help of Elon Musk, GOP legislators are considering reducing payouts under Social Security, including raising the retirement age and other benefit cuts. As one GOP representative recently told Fox Business Network, “we're going to have to have some hard decisions” on Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare.

After a slim majority of America’s voters returned a toddler with a loaded gun to the presidency, I put myself on a strict national news diet. Now entering the second month, I limit my national news consumption to one hour per day, as needed, down from five.

Writing about the intersection of politics and law during this tumultuous time in American history can be taxing. Since mental health experts say gratitude can reverse the psychological harm caused by Trump’s rotating buffoonery, I was determined to share my heartfelt gratitude over the Thanksgiving holiday. This year I’m thankful for:

I’m watching the first snow in Chicago, fighting an urge to withdraw from national news for a while. Any familiarity with world history makes clear the imperative of resistance before jackboots kick down the door, but watching Republicans’ abrogation of duty in service to a charlatan taxes one’s mental health. I don’t want to give Donald Trump and his unqualified goons that much power.