Episode Details

In the Fall of 2021, Donald Trump was selling a hardcover book about his presidency called Our Journey Together. It would be self-published because it had to be. No publisher would touch it, no author would write it, and no critic would be caught dead praising it.

January 6th was meant to be the end of the Trump story. He was to slink back to Mar-a-Lago, disgraced and a failure. They all said his book was a joke, a Putin-like rewrite of what really happened in his first term. Obviously, it had to be a lie - covering up the crimes, treason, and corruption.

But something told me I should get that book anyway and hold onto it. It might matter someday. Maybe, I thought, the Trump story wasn’t over quite yet.

So I paid the hefty price for the signed copy and waited. When the package arrived, it came in a plain cardboard box. I breathed a sigh of relief because I thought if the UPS guy knew I was buying it, he might accidentally lose some of my packages next time, or who knows what else.

I knew I wasn’t a Trump supporter because I was still holding on to what I thought were my principles as a lifelong Liberal. I didn’t vote for Trump in 2020, and as long as that was still true about me, I was protected from their wrath. I would find out years later just how bad it was to admit you supported Trump, let alone voted for him.

Much of what we have experienced over the past ten years will be memory-holed. No one will remember how treacherous it was back then to buy Our Journey Together. Now, I keep it to remind me of what it felt like to be that afraid and how foolish I was to give them that much power over me.

That’s what Trump has done for the past ten years. He’s refused to give the mighty empire power over his story. He’s decided to tell it himself, even if he has to self-publish a book. He’ll dress up in a tux with Melania and attend Les Miz at the Kennedy Center, even if some of them boo him. He’ll celebrate his birthday on the same day as the 250th anniversary of the creation of the United States Army, even if they mobilize their infantile “No Kings” protest.

Trump insists his version is the truth, and two narratives go to war every day. But the thing is, Trump’s is the better story. It’s like the end of the movie Life of Pi, where the lone survivor of a shipwreck has the choice of whether to tell the good story or the bad story. One will destroy you, and one will inspire you. It’s used as a metaphor for religion, but it works here, too.

Trump’s is the better story because he’s a better storyteller. For all of Trump’s obvious gifts, that one has served him the best. He’s mastered it for his entire life, starting all the way back in high school, where he would just stand in front of a crowd and tell stories.

For the past ten years, many people have needed to believe in Trump’s story, many of them discarded and forgotten by the empire. Over time, more and more people were drawn in as each side played its role. The Left hunted Trump down and cast themselves as the villains. How could they have ever thought that was a winning strategy?

That is what I find most inspiring about Trump. That’s why so many of his supporters remain loyal to him and fiercely defend him, even when — especially when — he makes mistakes.

In 2020, I was in a very dark place. I was caught up in the so-called #resistance. I believed Putin had Kompromat on Trump. I believed it all. I read all of the books. I hung on to every word Rachel Maddow said.

But things would change in those four years. It would become dystopian on the Left. I would feel the mob's wrath one too many times just for speaking out and pushing back about things I knew to be true. I also had no other social life except Twitter and Facebook during lockdowns, where the daily ritual of hate aimed at Trump, his staff, his family, and his supporters began to feel like poison.

I didn't want to be a part of it. If, for no oth