My friends who voted for Hillary are convinced Trump is a fascist, and that you are his Brown Shirts. Among these friends of mine are cowering people, defiant people, coming unhinged. But they have my back, and I have theirs. They have proved this on the street and in the woods, in state capitals and stadia, for decades, stating the facts in blood and ink and black paint rolled over a billboard on a moonless night. Peaceful, unarmed, open-hearted, empathetic to the unlucky and the impoverished, angry as fuck, they are readers of my articles and of books, thinkers, marchers in protest of war and injustice, helpers, healers, poets.