God forgive me, I cannot help myself, as the trade war against our country begins, I am spending this day endlessly scrolling online and listening to CBC news. Heroes are emerging. Our prime minister, at his finest, has just delivered a blistering speech. Charlie Angus! Timothy Snyder! Even our ridiculous premier Ford is saying the right things. And fiery Andrew Coyne just wrote on Twitter, “If such a thing were possible, I think Musk is more loathsome than Trump, though not as loathsome as Vance. Trump is simply disturbed: extremely dim, and suffering from multiple psychological disorders. Musk is still in control of his faculties, though rapidly deteriorating under the combined influence of too much money, too many drugs and too much time online. Mostly, however, he suffers from tech-bro disease: extreme ignorance … combined with maximum hubris. Vance, on the other hand, is just stone evil: a bright mind, zero character.”

Tell it like it is, brother!

A sick feeling in my stomach. Today is cold and wet and grey, with melting snow. Netanyahu has blocked aid to Gaza. Putin is feeling triumphant. And the cuts made by Trump and Musk are harming children everywhere. Never has our world felt more vulnerable, prey to evil.

But – BUT! We saw those people lining the road in Vermont, shouting at Vance to go ski in Russia. We are watching the town halls in the US, with people so angry the Repugs are deciding not to hold them any more. Americans are waking up.

I think about Dan S. Dan and I went to high school together for a year, the private boys’ school in Halifax my father founded for my brother, which had just started accepting girls. Dan was a macho right-wing bully then, loudly in favour of the Vietnam War; we used to argue endlessly, although, as I’ve written, neither of us really knew what we were talking about. He moved to the States, of course, has remained right-wing, and we have continued to argue. Before the election in November, he sent me a triumphant email; he knew Trump and the Repugs would win big. I could not believe it. I sent him an editorial by Andrew Coyne, decrying everything about Trump. Dan wrote back, “TDS. Trump Derangement Syndrome.” I decided not to reply. Ever.

He did finally admit he was wrong about the Vietnam War, although it took many years. I wonder what he’s thinking now, how he’s justifying his guy. How it’s possible to grow up with every privilege and still be selfish and blind and mean. So many like him – heedless white men, threatened by change, celebrating the bullies.

To cheer me up – my boys. They came over for Sunday dinner; we went to the toboggan hill, but it was sheer ice, too dangerous even for them. When we got back, I lit the fire and they cuddled under a blanket while I read more Percy Jackson. Of course they fought about who got more blanket and everything else, because brothers. But I prepared a meal and served it to my loved ones, something I did for many years and do rarely now. It’s what I can do in this time of madness.

This too shall pass. I believe that. Some of the damage, of what they have smashed to oblivion, may be permanent, but we will come through. Those hideous men will go down in flames, in infamy. History will judge them. May they rot in hell.