This was the inevitable conclusion to this tragic farce. The man with the sad clown face (let us no longer speak his name anywhere but in a courtroom or a jail). He was always a cancer. Everything he touches, he destroys. Family, business, faith, hope, love, laughter, all consumed by his cancerous soul. The second negative partisanship coupled with an over-reliance on geographical boundaries brought him into power and ushered in a four-year struggle, the choice was simple. Either the Republican Party would be destroyed or America. I take no pleasure in warning of this danger, of being “right”. The time for reasoning with the other side has long since past. Everything has been directed at one result. America would survive. That was my choice and the choice of 81 million strong. Everything was designed to contain this cancer from consuming our country.

The cancer is now destroying the Republican Party. To my conservative friends who truly don’t dream of civil war, who do not truly view me or other progressives as our own form of cancer, I offer this advice: let them go. Let Trump and the dark forces that prop him up go and start their own third party. No union is worth sacrificing your conscience.