I just think we should have a president who respects our votes and probably isn't senile

On one level, it feels really silly—no, silly isn't the right word, because silly implies harmless—it feels 110 percent insane that we might be about to elect Donald Trump president again. I won't list all the reasons we shouldn't, but there are a lot. A big one for me was his handling of the riot at the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021. Specifically, I didn't like how he planned and started it in an attempt to overturn the 2020 election results and illegally maintain control of the government. I don't like that he keeps saying he's going to try to overturn this year's election results if he loses either. Voting is one of the few ways the average American adult can directly influence the political process. It's not a magical power, and it's pretty limited in scope; but it's easy and fun. (They give you a sticker.) We do want leaders who recognize the validity of our votes, or if they don't, who agree to rectify the disagreement through the constitutional means available. We don't want people trying to hang Mike Pence, even if Mike Pence arguably would have deserved it.

So even though I do believe it's important to be a strong advocate for oneself, I also think you can take it too far, and that's my main misgiving about Donald Trump. He thinks he's more important than the country, and he wants us to think so too. It's very needy, which, like constantly trying to overthrow the legitimate government, is a poor quality in a leader. (As a parent, I already hear a lot of whining about how unfair it all is. I don't need it from the most powerful person in the free world too.)

Another poor quality in a leader—as the media and the Trump campaign were consumed with reminding us a few months ago—is senility. Last night after his town hall–style rally in Pennsylvania was interrupted by two different medical emergencies in the audience (it sounds like it was very hot, but that they wouldn't open the venue doors for security reasons), the former, possibly future president did this:

For 39 minutes, Trump swayed, bopped—sometimes stopping to speak—as he turned the event into almost a living-room listening session of his favorite songs from his self-curated rally playlist.

He played nine tracks. He danced. He shook hands with people onstage. He pointed to the crowd. [South Dakota governor Kristi] Noem stood beside him, nodding with her hands clasped. Trump stayed in place onstage, slowly moving back and forth. He was done answering questions for the night.

His adviser Steven Cheung posted this afterward:

Yes, he's making light of two people being taken away in ambulances—people who came out to see his boss!—and that's the sort of person you want influencing federal policy. And yes, in a crowded, un-air-conditioned room so hot that two people had already fainted, everyone was "so excited" to hang out, late on a Monday night, to hear "Y.M.C.A." and "November Rain" while the guy they had come to hear answer their pre-selected questions did this:

…FOR 40 MINUTES. They were at least four or five songs in, in the clip above.

It wouldn't surprise me if Trump got a little kick out of making his fans stand in a hot room and sweat while he just stood and basked in their adoration, listening to the same songs he listens to every night. But he doesn't pass up the opportunity to hear himself speak. This reads to me like he just couldn't maintain his focus (to the extent he ever maintains it) and maybe on some level realized all this could be coming to an end—and he loves it, he loves the rallies so much more than he ever loved actually having to be president—and retreated into himself, sort of forgot there were other people there. (He forgets about his supporters pretty regularly. Again: not a trait most of us want our presidents to have.)

The media hasn't really conveyed the extent to which Trump has lost a step, which became only more apparent after Joe Biden dropped out. Anyone voting Trump in 2024 needs to understand they're probably really voting for JD Vance and Stephen Miller (who did something like a real-life Two Minutes Hate the other day in Colorado).

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Speaking of voting stickers: Seems like you could do a postage stamp–type deal there, give a bunch of artists some work, get Americans excited to go to their polling places and see what the new sticker designs are. If you know anyone on the FEC, please pass this idea along to them.

Good to Know

Stay busy supporting democracy, and put your money where it matters most. I haven't done a deep dive of the site, but check out erlywrm.com. It's got ways to be productive between now and Election Day, and information on which Democratic races could use donations. (The Harris campaign's coffers are full.)

The Fun Part

For my fellow parents of young children and any other Bluey fans out there (it's a good show; you don't need kids to enjoy it): Here's a spreadsheet made by someone estimating the odds that Bandit and Chili do it (doggy-style, presumably) after each episode, based on close readings of the storylines.

And on Monday, countries all over the planet celebrated World Standards Day, which recognizes the importance of doing things the same way across the globe. The United States was not among those countries. We'll celebrate it on November 14 instead.

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Hit me up at joshwimmer@gmail.com with questions, suggestions, thoughts and feelings, tips, and politely worded corrections and criticism. If you think someone would be interested in this newsletter, forward it to them. But I guess forget what I said yesterday about asking your rich friends to help me with all my sick children. Don't know which of you told her, but somehow Julia found out about it and was like, "You can't just beg people for money! It's embarrassing!" But I don't think it is begging. I think I'm creating an immersive fictional experience, like that Star Wars ride at Disneyland. Anyway, I told her I'd been planning to buy her a Cybertruck with my earnings from everbody's rich friends, and she said she didn't want one and that I should put my pants back on. What happened to the woman I fell in love with?