Trolling for sample emails and information about imploring electoral college electors to “vote their conscience,” I stumbled upon some alarming and sobering comments from people who have already done so and been rebuked by these haughty public officials. Case in point: a woman who emailed the electoral college only to receive the following (highly abridged) response to her very innocuous email:

“Nice try though to get Electors to place their personal opinion above the will of the people.

Please note that, in my state, Elector voting is regulated by state law (i.e, Electors are bound by state law in regards to how each will vote). Also in my state, encouraging someone to violate a law is a CRIME. Since you are encouraging me to violate a state law, I have turned your email request over to the proper legal authorities for their handling as to a legal disposition. Good luck with that. Signed: 7th Congressional Chairman GOP

Jerry Rovner CAPT (USNR/NJSG-ret) Freedom is not Free”


Is this for real? And, if so, does it sound like America to you?? I’m almost afraid to post this blog! Aside from feeling shocked, disappointed, and upset by November’s election results, I am growing increasingly frightened as events continue to unfold since Election Day. Every new incident points to an incoming oligarchy, with its attendant and swift denial of Constitutional protections and human rights for ordinary citizens like you and me. I legitimately fear four years (and possibly many more) marred by escalating strife, ever-increasing moral and physical decay, mounting desperation, and—unimaginably—all of this culminating in armed conflict on our own soil. Think this notion is crazy? Have you any idea how many guns there are in our country—legal or otherwise? Given that every boundary of decorum, truth, and common sense was breached during this unprecedented election, is it irrational of me to perceive my nation—and our future—as being in imminent peril?

Before Mr. T. won the electoral vote, I didn’t realize just how much I took my country for granted. I never even thought about it. Like a dependable-if-sometimes-arranged marriage of 36 years’ duration (that’s how long I’ve been voting), I loved my homeland and made certain assumptions about it—one of them being I don’t have to hawk-watch everything my government does, and I can go about my business and live my life in relative peace. I presupposed a certain amount of cheating (i.e., thievery), in exchange for which I expected this country’s elected officials to maintain an outward semblance of decency while they did their jobs—the most important of those being keeping the “system” on track and preventing derailment when Corporate America oversteps.

But now, I can’t focus on anything but the news—on what our president-elect will do next. Fearing each subsequent outrage, I check my phone and iPad several times daily. Every time, I have a visceral reaction to the latest cabinet appointment, outlandish tweet, or reported hate crime. Maybe I should stop following the reports. Clearly, it is upsetting me. I am self-aware enough to ask whether I am having an unjustified knee-jerk reaction to everything DT says and does, but I don’t think so: To react in any other way to this Machiavellian aftermath would be to make excuses in order to safeguard a delusion of blissful ignorance.

Indeed, some friends and colleagues recommend limiting media exposure, for our own sanity. That would undeniably ameliorate my frame of mind in the short run, but to what end? If I have to blind myself to reality in order to preserve my sanity, how does that make me sane? How “sane” is it for otherwise rational people to willfully stick their heads in the sand while a groping conman—the literal embodiment of the emperor with no clothes—rapes our country from behind, and the legitimately insane cheer our debasement in celebration?

If you think I am overreacting, please leave a respectful comment and explain why. Keep in mind, “Let’s wait and see how it goes” is a calming platitude—until we find ourselves careening toward a crash landing with an egomaniacal celebrity apprentice at the helm. If only real life could be more like Madam Secretary, where each Sunday night our untarnished nation records another happy ending—brought to you by competent and compassionate statesmen and -women. I fear this chapter of our real history will not end as rosily.