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Marat Oyvetsky's avatar

Donald Trump has turned the 2020 election into his own personal ghost story, a campfire tale he insists on retelling long after everyone else has finished their marshmallows and gone home.  The punchline, of course, is that more than 60 court cases, many in front of judges he himself appointed, sifted through his “kraken” of fraud claims and found the same thing every decent fish market manager would: this isn’t fresh, and it sure as hell isn’t fish.  Conservative legal scholars took the time to read through 64 different challenges and concluded—politely, in footnotes—that he simply lost, that there was no credible evidence that fraud changed the outcome anywhere.  Yet here he is in 2026, still muttering that the 2020 election was “rigged,” repeating the claim more than a hundred times in six months like a diner regular who sends back every plate but somehow always clears his own.  The cybersecurity folks called 2020 the most secure election in American history, federal law enforcement found no significant fraud, and his own attorney general essentially shrugged and said, “There’s nothing there, it’s all nonsense,” but the show must go on, apparently.

What he never seems eager to put under the blacklight are his own victories. The win in 2016, or the nice, clean re‑election in 2024 that landed him back in the White House in January 2025.  Those, magically, are immune from the vast global conspiracy of Venezuelan voting machines, dead Democrats, and Italian satellites beaming ballots in from outer space.  It’s funny in the way watching a drunk guy argue with a street sign is funny: mildly entertaining, until you realize he’s steering a country and not just stumbling down the strip. The courts have spoken, the audits are done, the experts are bored, and every serious investigation has reached the same resounding verdict: there is no wolf, just a man who discovered that shouting “fire” in a crowded democracy keeps the cameras pointed his way.  At this point, the crying isn’t just tiresome, it’s background noise, the political equivalent of elevator music, forever looping while he insists the building is burning, just not the floors he happens to own.

Dawn Kucera's avatar

Here’s what I think will be very valuable – – and that is to keep shining a light on the truth. Keep putting the truth out there. For me, one method is to write letters to the editor. I live in a small town, with a small town newspaper, in a ruby red rural area.

When I post to blogs, I know I’m speaking to my own tribe. When my letters are published in the newspaper, people outside my own echo chamber, read them. If I can create any doubt in a few minds, or change one vote, it’s worth the time and effort.

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