Dear Madame President,
I'm sorry. I just wanted to use this title one time. You know, before the fabric of the universe is torn asunder, the Hellmouth cracks open and an army of Turok-Han emerges to feast on our flesh. Officially, this is being referred to as the presidential inauguration. Unofficially, it marks the moment governance in America became an international joke with the country set to be led by an arrogant, corrupt sexual predator who also happens to be so extraordinarily thin skinned that his entire pre-training period has been spent whining about a press that does its job and how the cast of Saturday Night Live are mean to him.
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It should have been you. I know that. You know that. The 65 million people who voted for you (which was three million votes higher than Trump, making you overwhelmingly the people's choice) know that. You were the most politically qualified person in history to be nominated for the position of US presidential candidate, and you ran against the literal equivalent of a balloon animal. There have been enough armchair autopsies performed on why you lost what should have been the unloseable election. A million theories and arguments abound, but I guess the only truth that really matters is that no one took into account the fact a lot of America's voting public are either really ignorant, really selfish or some destructive combination of the two.
Oh sure, we've heard a lot about the rust belt and the poor white working class folk whose discontent with the system had been underestimated.
![Hillary Clinton.](/web/20170121065243im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/6/a/b/image.related.articleLeadNarrow.300x0.gtvbd1.png/1484903765261.jpg)
You know what? F--- those people.
The white men who gravitated towards Trump's brazen ego, puffed up on the permission he gave them to drag their racism and sexism out of the basement and polish it up for display in the front hallway once again.
The white boys (both rich and poor) who revel in Trump's boorishness, rolling around in packs now and yelling giddily about "grabbing 'em by the pussy!" because Trump's win restores in them the faith that women's bodies belong to them.
The white women who voted for Trump, pledging their allegiance to the ultimate symbol of patriarchy because it made them feel safe, valued and good humoured to let men see them laughing along at the gigantic joke that women are thought to be, especially we they stand up for ourselves. Those women will never be accepted into the boys' club, no matter how hard they work to ingratiate themselves. I'm embarrassed to be associated with them and angry that they respond so well to the directive to hate everyone their male masters tell them to hate, including themselves.
Everyone who voted for Trump because he promised to build a wall to keep people out of a country whose modern history is defined by colonisation and theft, while still planning their weekend trips to Tijuana and Cancun. (You think Trump is relying on locals to stay at his resort in Baja?)
I woke up this morning and looked at the mounted New York Times front page of Obama's 2008 election win that I have hanging in my house. I was in New York the night he won, and the streets crackled with the energy of what felt like a new era of hope for a country with a past so abhorrently rooted in slavery and white supremacy. I thought your presidency would continue that message of change, but it turns out that people actually just suck really badly.
Today is a desperately sad day. I'm not afraid to say that, even though it will invite ridicule and skiting from the countless anonymous trolls who patrol the bridges of the internet. I'm okay with that. Those people believe in Trump, which means they believe in nothing. And don't get me wrong. It's not like I think you're perfect. Who is? I accept the arguments from people more left-leaning than myself, critical as they are of your neo-liberalism, military campaigns and 'hawkishness'. I also accept that your status as a woman means your political record will be scrutinised more closely and with more severity than any of your colleagues, especially those who enjoyed less political responsibility and pressure than you.
But hey, none of that matters now. The election is over, the balloon animal won. As former First Lady, you and your husband have been invited to the inauguration. According to the Washington Post, a spokesperson for the two of you has confirmed you will be in attendance. And all I have to say to that is, whhhhyyyyyyy?
Okay. We all know if you don't go, a million angry, faceless Nazis and/or degenerates on Twitter (and Fox News) will call you a 'sore loser' or a 'cry baby', a shrew refusing to accept the outcome of what they laughably believe was a fair fight. I see what you're doing here. It's the culmination of a decades-long career where you've had to do the smile-and-shake-hands dance repeatedly in order to survive. Your patience and fortitude are second to none.
BUT GIRL, STOP. YOU DO NOT NEED TO ATTEND THE CIRCUS TODAY. YOU DO NOT.
Don't do this to yourself. You've inhaled your disappointments and losses for over 30 years now, but you don't owe anyone anything anymore. You definitely don't owe anything to this disgraceful, cheap polyester suit of a human being, least of all your congratulations. Please don't dignify this farce with your attendance. Be a 'bad loser' for once, Hillary. You have earned that right. You deserve that much.
In solidarity,
A Woman
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