People hate Trump for all sorts of reasons and they’re all valid. Why do I hate him? Well, I’ll tell you.

I hate that he represents the worst combination of arrogance, ignorance, cruelty, and power. He’s the embodiment of everything wrong with American politics–corruption, racism, greed, and narcissism–and he’s turned politics into a grotesque reality show. I see him not only as a bad president but a symptom of a much deeper rot in our system: capitalism run amok, cultish nationalism, and the glorification of stupidity.

He brags about things he should be ashamed of. He lies like it’s breathing. He panders to white supremacists, demonizes immigrants, mocks the disabled, and dodges accountability at every turn. And somehow, he became president.

I hate him because he made it clear that cruelty isn’t a bug in the system–it’s a feature. He ripped children from their parents and bragged about it. He treated a pandemic like a PR problem and let hundreds of thousands die while pushing bleach as a cure. He spent years dog-whistling to fascists until the whistles became bullhorns, and then claimed no responsibility when his mob stormed the Capitol.

He doesn’t just represent conservative politics–he represents a cult of personality built on lies, resentment, and fear. He’s not just a symptom of decline, he accelerates it. He made it okay for the worst people to say the quiet part out loud–open racism, misogyny, transphobia, conspiracy theories–he gave it a platform and a suit.

He’s everything people warned us about in history books, except with a golf course and a gold toilet.

And the worst part? Millions cheer him on because of this, not in spite of it. That’s what really makes my blood boil.

Trump didn’t break America. He just held up a mirror, grinned, and asked if we wanted to make it worse.