Our Living Nightmare

The Rise of Trump and the Death of Civilization

The slow-motion catastrophe unfolding before our eyes is not merely a political crisis—it is the dismantling of civilization itself. And at the center of the wrecking ball stands Donald J. Trump, a man whose psychological profile reads like a psychiatrist’s worst nightmare. A man without conscience, compassion, or principles, who survives not by strength or wisdom, but by perfecting the art of mimicry—studying those around him, mirroring their values, their speech, their desires, until he becomes whatever the moment demands. He deceives with ease, slipping into roles like a chameleon, gaining trust only to betray, adapting only to destroy.

Psychiatrist Dr. Bandy Lee, author of The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump, has spent years warning us. She and 40 (now 50) of the nation’s leading psychiatrists and mental health professionals sounded the alarm in 2017, declaring Trump’s pathology not just a personal affliction but a systemic threat. And now, here we are—watching the institutions that once held society together gutted, courts manipulated, agencies hollowed out, and democracy hanging by a thread. The destruction is not collateral damage—it is the point.

Trump is not alone in this calculated demolition. He has his enablers: Elon Musk, JD Vance, Vladimir Putin, Benjamin Netanyahu, and an entire ecosystem of broken men who rise to power on the backs of shared pathology. These figures—each as deeply damaged as Trump himself—have turned politics into a wasteland of moral corruption and performative cruelty. Their strategy? Move faster than the law can catch up. By the time the courts respond, the damage is already done, the institutions already dismantled, the safeguards already burned to the ground.

Destruction is the Point

The world has seen this before. Hitler, called the “seismograph of crowds,” manipulated the fears and desires of his followers, sensing what they needed to hear before they knew it themselves. Trump is no different. He preys on the emotionally wounded, the disillusioned, the ones looking for a savior. And in doing so, he drags an entire nation into his pathology. Dr. Lee calls it “narcissistic symbiosis” and “shared psychosis”—a process where a developmentally stunted leader magnetically attracts followers who are similarly broken, seeking a father figure, a protector, someone to make their pain disappear.

But this leader cannot lead. He cannot govern. He cannot even manage the basic functions of office. He is not a strategist, not a genius, not a mastermind—he is a parasite, attaching himself to the levers of power and draining them dry.

And now he has help. Elon Musk—another figure of deep psychological instability—has emerged as a key enabler, dismantling the mechanisms of democracy with terrifying speed. Some of the smartest political minds didn’t see Musk coming. They assumed Trump’s second term, if it came, would be mostly performative, a circus act without real consequences. They were wrong. Musk’s unchecked power, his ability to control the flow of information, to disrupt governance, to manipulate the digital space—this has created the perfect storm.

Musk and Trump see each other as father figures, locked in a pathological dance of mutual adoration and inevitable destruction. The same pattern Trump followed with Steve Bannon, and will follow again. They use each other for power, for legitimacy, for cover. And when the time comes, they will turn on each other like rabid dogs. But not before they’ve burned everything in their path.

The Failure of Those Who Should Have Stopped This

It would be one thing if the threat came only from Trump and his enablers, but the truth is far worse. Nearly every institution and official whose job it was to protect the country, uphold democracy, and serve the public good has instead chosen self-enrichment and cowardice.

Career politicians, nearly all Republicans, who once claimed to stand for democracy have sold out their integrity for power. Judges and lawmakers who could have drawn the line instead chose to play politics. Media figures who once positioned themselves as gatekeepers of truth have caved to profit motives, turning the news into a circus of outrage and sensationalism, leaving the public defenseless against propaganda.

Where were the so-called public servants? The FBI, the Department of Justice, Congress—institutions that should have been the last line of defense—have been riddled with incompetence, complacency, and outright corruption. Instead of taking decisive action, they have hesitated, debated, or worse, enabled. They let the rot spread while they collected their salaries, made their book deals, and ensured their personal fortunes. They have been more concerned with their own comfort than with the survival of democracy.

The result? A nation at the brink. The wealthy and powerful have used their positions to insulate themselves from the destruction, while the rest of the country suffers. The institutions that were supposed to stand as a bulwark against tyranny have instead become lifeless husks, drained of their original purpose by the very people entrusted to protect them.

The Challenge Before Us: A Fight for Survival

This is it. The moment when each of us must decide: do we stand up and fight, or do we let the world slip into darkness? The battle is not just political—it is moral, existential. It is a fight for the survival of truth, of justice, of the fundamental idea that people can govern themselves without succumbing to the rule of the unhinged and the corrupt.

And while it may feel as though we are teetering on the edge of the abyss, history tells us that societies have been here before. Rome nearly collapsed under the weight of its own corruption, only to see the Republic transformed and carried forward in new ways. The Weimar Republic fell, but from its ashes rose a democratic Germany stronger and more resilient. South Africa overcame apartheid, despite the deep scars left behind. The United States itself has faced crises before—the Civil War, the Great Depression, the McCarthy era—and has emerged battered, but intact.

We are not doomed, but we are at a breaking point. The institutions meant to protect us have failed, but we, the people, still have power. We must learn from those who have come before us. We must push forward with the determination of those who survived and rebuilt. We must demand accountability, resist despair, and refuse to be complicit in our own destruction.

Ultimately, many feel the option will be to take to the streets, as we did in the ‘60s. When the system fails, when voices are silenced, when institutions designed to serve instead exploit, history shows that people don’t stay quiet forever. Protests, sit-ins, marches—the language of the unheard becomes impossible to ignore when it spills into the streets. The difference now, of course, is that we live in an era where activism is simultaneously more visible and more easily contained. Social media amplifies outrage but also pacifies it, offering the illusion of action without the risk.

Back then, movements were built on raw, physical resistance—bodies on the line, arrests, tear gas, fire hoses, and sheer, unrelenting presence. Today, people are divided between digital petitions and the very real possibility that marching in the wrong place at the wrong time might mean being recorded, tracked, or labeled a threat. The power of the street remains, but so does the power of surveillance, of misinformation, of authorities more prepared than ever to suppress dissent before it gains momentum.

But when pressure builds, it must be released. And if those in power continue to ignore, exploit, or grind people down, the streets won’t just be an option—they’ll be the only place left where people can be heard. The only question is whether this generation has the stomach for it.Why Hope Matters—Even When It Feels Impossible

Hope is not a naive fantasy; it is an act of defiance. It is what has allowed people to push through the most horrific moments in history. From the resistance movements of World War II to the civil rights movement in America, hope has been the force that keeps people standing when everything tells them to fall.

Yes, the odds are stacked against us. Yes, the forces of corruption and chaos seem overwhelming. But surrender is not an option. The fact that we are still here, that we are still willing to fight, means that the story is not yet over.

Hope is in every person who refuses to accept lies as truth. Hope is in every small act of defiance, in every vote cast, in every protest, in every person who teaches their children to see through manipulation and greed. Hope is action. And as long as we act, as long as we believe in the possibility of something better, we have not lost.

This is not just about politics.

This is about survival.

The world is watching, and history will judge us. The time for complacency is over. We must choose: stand, fight, rebuild—or let the world be consumed by those who would see it burn.

Make no mistake: the power to change the course of history is still in our hands. But not for along, hence this urgent appeal.

We are not powerless. Every movement that reshaped the world started with individuals who refused to back down. Every moment of progress was forged by those who chose to act, not because it was easy, not because they were guaranteed to win, but because they understood that their efforts mattered.

The moment we stop believing in our ability to make a difference, we hand victory to those who thrive on destruction. The moment we tell ourselves it’s too late, we abandon the very future we claim to want to save.

We cannot afford to wait for someone else to fix this. There is no cavalry coming over the hill. No one is here to save us. We are the ones who must rise.

The choice is ours. Right now. Today. This moment.

And if we stand together, if we move forward with courage and conviction, then this is not the end of America. This is the moment we reclaim it.

Rejecting the Fools and Liars

Just because the media glorifies fools and liars doesn’t mean we have to bow to them. We don’t have to let the corrupt, the incompetent, and the self-serving dictate our future. They hold power only if we allow it. It’s time to reject their influence, expose their deceit, and demand real leadership.

In recent weeks, we’ve seen leaders betray public trust.

• Elon Musk has been accused of using his influence to manipulate U.S. government functions, threatening the livelihoods of millions.

• Former Congressman Anthony Weiner, disgraced for sending explicit messages to a minor, is now contemplating a return to politics, testing the limits of accountability.

• In Congress, elected officials have spent more time engaging in personal attacks, spreading disinformation, and obstructing real progress than actually solving problems.

• Corporate executives have pushed policies that prioritize profit over human lives, environmental destruction over responsibility, and division over unity.

These actions highlight the urgent need for real leadership. We must peacefully demand integrity and reject those who deceive and manipulate.

Where Are the Leaders We Need?

We need real leaders. New leaders.

Where are they? They will step forward when we raise our voices and demand them.

I have no doubt they are here, among us now.

Who are they?

They are the ones who refuse to accept the status quo, who see injustice and dare to challenge it. They are the voices rising in the dark, refusing to be drowned out by fear and complacency. They are the ones who step forward—not because they crave power, but because they understand that silence is surrender.

They are teachers, workers, artists, thinkers, activists. They are the ones who inspire, who refuse to bow to cynicism, who remind us that change is possible, but only if we demand it.

They are not waiting in the wings—they are already here, among us.

They are us.

But they cannot lead unless we call for them. They cannot rise unless we make room for them. They cannot fight unless we stand beside them.

If we want real leadership, we must create it. If we want change, we must be its architects.

The world is shifting, and the old ways are crumbling. In this moment of crisis, our future will be decided—not by those who seek only to preserve their own power, but by those bold enough to shape a new path.

The question is not just who they are.

The question is:

Will we recognize them? Will we support them?

Or more importantly—

When will we become them?

From a 2012 performance by the Dukes of September, “Takin’ It to the Streets,” written and performed by Michael McDonald.

For more, if you dare, check out this deep dive:

Back to our regularly scheduled programming on Monday. Until then, let your conscience be your guide.