During past elections, the political writing in your blog became a sanctuary, where all the crazy rhetoric in the media was locked outside for awhile, and my mind had the opportunity to look at facts, arranged and presented in an cohesive, succinct argument that made sense. You usually articulated what I’d been mumbling and muttering in my brain for weeks or months. And though the orcs and trolls rattled the gates, for awhile I was safe to think and to even respond calmly and intelligently to those friends and foes around me. Thank you for that gift.

Of course, as I stepped out into the real world, my mind froze again with some combination of disbelief, fury, desolation, and the desire to kick someone. And the only words out of my mouth were inevitably on par with my 17 year old self–sputtering, flushing, twitching and finally, resorting to the ultimate weapon in my arsenal: PPPPPFFFFFTTTT.

In reality, I am 47 years old. Please help me avoid this sad scenario in the future. Untangle the knot of reality concocted of hemp, green wool, blue cotton, black, white, red, and yellow silk, and crochet it into a beautiful cape of truth, justice and the American Way.