I read that in a reader’s snippy comment to the Times’ article about Trump’s indictment. As a “liberal,” I am fully qualified to comment upon the comment.
My apartment is in a large upper west side building. The UWS is one of the throbbing hearts of NYC liberal/progressive activism. The moment I heard about the indictment, here’s what I did. I took a deep breath and let it out. At that moment, too, I did not hear my neighbors yelling in joy and beating on kitchen pots and pans — which they did every evening at the beginning of the pandemic, to thank hospital personnel as they got off work.
I’ve spent time this past week with my more-than-liberal family. Woke. We’re woke. None of us even mentioned the indictment until hours had passed, hours in which we were talking about other things. No pots and pans; we ate pizza.
No jubilation. Not one little “eek” of joy. What we did was look at each other, and nod. Maybe one of us said, “Okay.”
That was it. It was enough.
Too sad and terrifying that an amoral criminal (innocent til proved guilty aside) was ever elected President. Still incredulous that this evil , narcissistic, con man who would destroy our democracy for his selfish power grab might still be re elected by too many Republicans. No jubilance here.