Trump Triumphs, the headline reads. I can’t believe it. I left the election night parties that had taken a sad turn at 7pm (we are on the west coast), and biked home a bit drunk at 10. It was close, but I still hoped that it would turn out ok. It now appears that it is not ok.

Helicopters circle overhead, waking our dog and turning him into a shivering mess. That’s about all I can muster as well. What is this country that we now inhabit? Where is the America that I thought I lived in? The one that elected a black man with a funny name, and was poised to elect an incredibly qualified and tenacious woman.

I am scared. Not for myself, per se, because as a white guy with a beard I don’t feel myself in immediate danger. But for my black and brown friends, for my queer and trans friends, my muslim and immigrant friends, my friends who are women, or don’t have health insurance, or who have children who will inherit a world devastated by climate change. How much of the progress that we have made is about to be swept away? How much of the surveillance state that we have built is about to be unleashed?

We went to a play about the Spanish Civil War last weekend. The young actors playing soldiers younger than they are re-enacted scenes of fighting a proto-fascist state. We went to see Pussy Riot on Saturday, and they spoke eloquently about the modern fascist state in Putin’s Russia. Judith Butler read my question to them: how can we defeat Putin-ism here in the US? That question now rings in my ears. What will become of America under Trump’s regime?

It’s 3am on election day, and all we have are questions. I need to get some sleep. There is work to do.