We, the Five Million

Five million people. Now that is saying something. But what?

We are in uncharted territory. As an authoritarian regime has unfolded in front of our unbelieving eyes, as the man who would be king attempts to silence the opposition, intimidate a nation into submission, take those within his party as slave to his every whim and make their supplication a predicate for admission into his inner sanctum, did our protest register on his Richter scale?

Did those who have his ear dare to whisper that he should stop with the military parades fit for a dictator, pull back on the naked aggression in the streets, call off the forces of evil with their masks and masquerades so eerily reminiscent of the darkest days of the world in the last century?

Did they attempt to inform him that he has gone too far in his attacks on the media, on the universities, on immigrants, on ignoring the rule of law, on usurping the role of Congress, on rejecting the directives of the Courts?

Or does he believe that having escaped the assassin's bullets, having neutered all the indictments and the convictions, having been given a thumbs up and a green light by the Supreme Court thus allowing free reign for the worst of his intentions, that he is immune to the slings and arrows, deaf to the insults and fully insulated from having to respond to the critics, the naysayers?

Did Donald Trump note what five million voices were shouting at him in unison last weekend?

That is the question hanging over this nation, causing those of us who challenged and chastised, to wonder and worry whether we were but very loud sounds of silence, sad lament, bootless cries. Or if there was, in fact, a blip on that Richter scale.