We’ve all been there. We’ve all had times, say, at work, when we thought: If only that one dude would quit, or die, this place’d be great.

So I guess I understand the basic impulse to try to curate the people you allow to exist beside you. Sort them by temperament, or humor, or ability to enrich you—whatever floats the old boat. We all have our druthers.

Ten years ago, though, if the president of the United States flat-out told you he was going to delete entire populations, and forcibly apprehend, remove, torture, or kill as many nonwhite people as possible, and his vice-prez and associated toadies recommended out loud that we keep the ladies pregnant and take away their silly voting privileges, I’d like to think that a lot of people would put up an objection. For a number of people, of course, that’s their idea of paradise.

Those people are white men (not all white men, settle down) and they’ve found a home in a formerly honorable political party. If that party is your home, you should think about moving into a better neighborhood.

That neighborhood would have a diversity of residents, but a shared sense of respect for each others’ humanity. A collective civic willingness to consider that other people have value, and have more in common with you than not.

Every generalization is specifically false. Our current leader’s generalizations are spectacularly false. And his generalizations about his own cohort—white men—are laughable. This is the cream of the crop? White men are among the worst people that ever lived, historically speaking. In America, they’re the ones who felt entitled to the land they stole fair and square, eliminated any other people in their way, and nearly exterminated the bison for the pure hell of it. Who, when legally enjoined from enslaving other people, launched a campaign of terror so vile and effective it lasted a hundred years. Who, when they finally realized they could no longer get away with simply massacring all the Blacks and indigenous people anymore, settled for picking them off one by one, via their police and nervous vigilantes standing their putrid ground; although considerable progress, by their reckoning, was made by ratholing generations of Black males in prison for real or imagined minor drug offenses.

Now, of course, Somali immigrants who dare to be productive citizens here are doing so while being even blacker, and are totally fair game.

You fragile little white boys are superior? Sorry. The fact that you need to double down on your hallucinations of superiority just to evade any form of self-reflection would be fine, if you stayed in your mommas’ basements. But we can’t keep giving you power over us. Mozart and Jimmy Carter can’t redeem you all by themselves.

Yet we have.  Somehow we have given power to this sorry raft of little dong-diddlers to create their perfect world, where merit doesn’t matter and they’re always on top. And what power we haven’t given them, they have simply taken. These are horrible people. I now understand their fervor for eliminating the Other. Because I want them all gone.

So here’s the plan. We pack them all off to Epstein’s Island. We can add an auxiliary Boys’ Island for the crew in the closet. It should be an easy sell. If they want some political cover, we can call it Epistan and tell them it needs invading. But I give it ten more news cycles before they start brandishing golden Epstein lapel pins as a badge of their fetid brand of dominance.

And then, once they’re on the island, we blow them the fuck up. Evidently, you can just do that now.