One of These Things Is Not Like the Others (And I'm Not the Only One that Knows it)

 

An illustrated U.S. map rendered as a stitched patchwork, fraying at the coasts and unraveling at the center. Coastal states pull away while D.C. unravels. Stitched-in words like “Truth” and “Fear” evoke structural fragmentation. The image conveys national disunity and quiet resistance.
We are at an age when dedicated self-interest is choking democracy at the throat. Truth—real, unvarnished, hard-edged truth—can’t even get back in the room anymore. Not because it’s been disproven. But because if it were let in, it would name names. And those names? Too many of them now come with book deals, speaking fees, and segment intros on cable news.


I saw it clearly when I wrote Conditional. I’m not an expert. I’m not a specialist. But I’ve got eyes—and I grew up on Sesame Street. I know how to play “One of These Things Is Not Like the Others.”

So why is it that not a single major voice warning us about autocracy ever brings up the most glaring difference between the U.S. and every fallen democracy they compare us to?

We do not have a centralized government.

We are a federal patchwork. Fifty laboratories. Fifty separate power centers. That’s not a glitch. That’s the whole damn design.

Would that save us? Maybe. All of us? Probably not. But would California go down without a fight? Not a chance. And they wouldn't go alone.

If California pulls away, Washington, Oregon, and likely Nevada follow—the entire western seaboard, the fifth-largest economy in the world on its own.

If New York steps back, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts are right behind. And don’t forget: all the intellectual capital—the scientists, the scholars, the policy minds—that this administration has thrown away? It’s not going to Tulsa. It’s going to end in California or New Jersey, where reality still has a seat at the table.

That’s not fantasy. That’s structural possibility. And the fact that no one in the expert class talks about it? That’s not ignorance—it’s avoidance. Because acknowledging it might mean telling the public:“We still have levers. But they don’t run through Washington.” And that would make a lot of these so-called defenders of democracy a lot less central to the solution.

And yes, let’s be clear—because I know what game the critics play:

I’m not talking about Joe Biden.
I’m talking about Donald Trump.

The man selling access. The man peddling NFTs and building a crypto empire while fantasizing about reopening Alcatraz. The man who is very visibly—almost proudly—corrupt. This isn’t conspiracy. This is commerce.

And yet, somehow, the people who claim to oppose him the loudest have the most to gain from his continued existence. Think about that.

How many have a book deal?
How many launched a new podcast in the last two years?
How many now sport “contributor” tags on Sunday talk shows?

Trump is good for their bottom line.
That’s the grift behind the grift.
And you can’t fight rot while profiting from the fungus.

But let’s carve a lane for the ones who still do stand up. For the voices that keep pushing, even when the cameras are off.

For people like Mark Elias, still fighting in court.
For Bill Owens, who stood up when so many stayed seated.
For Neal Katyal, who still believes in the law even after watching the Court betray it.
For Andrew Weissmann, who keeps showing up—legal sleeves rolled, facts intact.
For Judge John William “Tim” Rudduck, and the quiet, unbought judges who haven’t forgotten what the Constitution says.
For the ACLU, holding the line case after case, even when the wins are quiet and the fights are long.
For the local leaders, the poll workers, the election lawyers—the ones without a press team, but with a spine.

They’re proof that not everyone’s in on the grift.
That some people still believe in accountability—not as a slogan, but as a duty.

And that’s why I don’t believe Trump is invincible. In fact, I believe he can be backed down.

Bring him face to face with a reality where he doesn’t hold all the cards—
where states show him they have options, and people remind him he does not speak for everyone—
and suddenly, the man who sells strength starts to shrink.

Let him realize that history could remember him not as a leader, certainly not as a savior—

but as the man who took the “United” out of United States.
Not a kingmaker.
Not a patriot.
Just a con man who tried to crown himself.

That’s the real check. Not from Washington. But from us.

And that’s why I’m angry. That’s why I can’t trust the experts. If they really believe the sky is falling, why are they just sitting there sipping tea and filing their nails? You want people to care? Then act like it’s real. Act like it matters.

Because right now?
Right now in America?

The truth doesn’t look endangered.
It looks inconvenient.

And if that’s the hill no one’s willing to die on—
Then maybe it’s time we found some new heroes.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Long Torrid Love Affair

Image
If one accepts the importance of storytellers in a culture—their role in shaping the dynamics of society, molding behavior, and influencing how we interact with one another—then we’re in trouble. A couple of weeks ago, I caught RED on TV. It was a double feature showing alongside RED 2 . Have you seen them? They’re entertaining, the kind of movies that make you laugh but don’t stick with you. RED stands for "Retired, Extremely Dangerous." Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, and John Malkovich play retired CIA agents caught up in the fallout from a past mission. They’re aided by Helen Mirren, a retired MI6 operative. I honestly can’t even recall the mission that dragged them back into action. It should matter, but it doesn’t. What sticks out instead is how much these characters bemoan the passing of days when they don’t get to kill someone. It’s a comedy, so I laughed along. I was entertained. And later, I reflected… this was essentially a convening of serial killers. From RED 2 ,...
Read more

How Performative Outrage Keeps Us Distracted and Divided

Image
Breaking Free from the Outrage Cycle: A Call to Pursue Truth I’m frustrated with the state of the world. It feels like nothing in my background prepared me for this—if anything, I was raised to expect something completely different. Like a lot of people, I’m struggling to make sense of how society became so divided, reactive, and exhausting. What I’ve learned is that outrage on its own is a dead end. You can do one of three things with it: take action, learn to accept and live with what’s upsetting you, or just keep it to yourself. But social media doesn’t work like that. It feeds on outrage, encouraging us to post the same grievances over and over, pretending we’re shocked every time. Trump lied? No kidding, that’s his thing. The GOP did something hypocritical? That’s their entire brand. And yet, we’re trapped in this cycle of performative indignation, as if every example of bad behavior is a brand-new revelation. The Outrage Machine Social media makes outrage profitable. Every time y...
Read more

Man vs. Money

Image
  Man vs. Money A nation built on two ideals — one of them a parasite.   This country was never just founded on freedom. It was built on two conflicting ideologies — the rights of man , and the pursuit of money. And from the beginning, those two forces have been fighting it out. In choosing to enshrine both ideologies — the rights of man and the pursuit of wealth — in the same foundational documents, the Founding Fathers opened the door to the beast. They wove contradiction into the country’s very DNA. One ideal sought liberty and equality; the other sought profit, even if it meant exploitation. And the tension between those two has shaped every chapter since. We have pretended for more than two hundred years that these competing ideologies could rest easy in each other’s company. But I fear Money has always been waiting for Man to relax — to slip into sleep — so it could garrote him in the dark. Where "man" meant dignity, community, shared burden, and collective good — ...
Read more