I have never had a more visceral reaction to a politician, because he transports me. He takes me to places in my memory where I felt vulnerable, where I felt scared. And I know that from talking to others his presence, his speeches, his attitudes have that effect in them too. And with his sexism and with his racism and with his anti-intellectualism he represents all I despise. And with his demeanour, and with his attitude, and with his actions he represents all I fear. When he speaks, when I hear that contempt for others, for women, for non white, for all that is not Trump; when I hear that sloganeering demagoguery, pat four word solutions, baseless assertions; and when I see that sneer, that posturing, the head tilted back, the snorts, the sniffs, yes, when he speaks he pushes the buttons you don’t want to be pushed if you have ever been afraid. Because he is the bully in the playground taunting, pushing, but letting others fight his fights, standing at the back, egging on, laughing. Because he is the authoritarian teacher sneering and belittling the weak, throwing the duster across the room, laughing at the child in the row behind you who can’t answer the questions. Because he is the man outside your door, nudging it open, his face reflected in the mirror.
For the past few weeks every news broadcast has left me in a heightened state, anxious as I am transported. And now we have that for four years.
And I am scared.