Washington sees the disaffection. They read the polls, they know.
They call it rage. But it feels more like grief. Like the loss of something you never thought you’d lose, your sense of your country and your place in it, your rights in it.
No, Peggy, you chump, you’re feeling grief over the collapse of the monster you thought would be great for the White House, and who has done more to destroy America than any president before him. And, as usual, you in your Boswash Bubble don’t know anything more about Real Americans than the pols you’re lashing here.
It is rage we feel out here. And part of that rage is reserved for neocon hacks like you, who were infatuated by the half-black man with sharply creased pants.