Trump: Leading by tweeting

ON THIS SUBJECT, IT IS HARD TO SAY NOTHING...

140 Characters. Perhaps, today, that is the true attention span of many readers. What damage can be done in 140 characters or less? 

Well, as examples, a few headlines from his first week in office. Conveniently, perfect tweet lengths:

These are only a few examples of the chaos and the hate and the fear and the fascism Trump has brought down on the American people and the globe in his first week in office. Like many others, I am outraged. I am enraged. I have rage. And, like many, I marched last Saturday at the women's march here in Geneva, Switzerland. But then I also read comments like this:

"These marches are the real-world equivalent of liberals' social media feeds: a place where they can share anti-Trump opinions and immediately have everyone around them agree with them and like their comment and make them feel better. The signs people are carrying around are exactly like status updates on Facebook or Twitter. The march is like a physical echo-chamber, or "safe space" as they like to call it, where the prevailing dynamic is virtue signaling (ie. expressing an opinion in the presence only of people you know already agree with you, and whose approval reinforces your own convictions). Many liberal Americans today have grown up in a world where there are no losers, only winners ("You came last? Have a medal!"), so marching is a way of feeling - momentarily - like a winner when you know you have actually lost, big time. I can understand their frustration, but what I cannot understand is what they wish to achieve by marching, other than sharing a moment's nostalgia about a presidential campaign which they were certain they would win, and which they refuse to accept they have lost."

and I start to feel powerless all over again. I am still figuring out my next steps, but in the meantime I thank social media for bringing to my screen things like this:

and I bow to artists creating reminders like these:

Elizabeth Graeber

Elizabeth Graeber

In Chorus, Justina Blakeney

In Chorus, Justina Blakeney

and poems as simple as these:

Keep fighting, friends. I am with you. I am listening.

Micaela NeumannComment