This is the warning.
There is a question that hangs in the air that will be settled in ninety four days at the closing of the polls, when those last votes are cast, And the question is what does an American look like?
And perhaps what is a black job?
Last night, a black job was bringing glory to the country, personal individual achievement, fuel through grit, determination, sheer, extraordinary God given excellence, and the hard work to distill it into the greatness that the American people and the whole world cheered for. Last night, when the world cheered, the American flag rose high, our national anthem played, a black job had certainly one Donald Trump couldn't do. Look at the joy, the happiness, the sheer patriots is them as they dance
with the American flag. Sunny Lee and Simone Biles. What extraordinary competitors, athletes and Americans. We are all proud of them. Now let's look at another image. Let's look at a joyless face, an affected scow. Let's look at America's dime store, Mussolini and his mugshot. I'll show you in a second how proud Donald Trump is of it. But look deeper into it, the unhappiness, the misery, the weirdness. It's weird not to smile, isn't it. I'll tell you another thing
that's weird. If we could turn back the clock a little bit. This woman is a five star wacko Christy nom and she was seriously under consideration to be this unsmiling man's vice president before he picked the demented weirdo jd.
Vance.
This woman wrote in a book trying to titillate these people, the Maga Masses, that she point blank shot a puppy because she was angry at trying to show that she could make tough decisions, and she was a hard ass.
All of this stuff is demented. This entire cast of characters has always been a Star Wars bar scene, a creature canteena of fascist yearning, of despotic cravings, of Unamerican appetites that seeks to impose control over you, over your daughters mostly, but over your wives as well, and girlfriends, over every.
One of us.
Trump Ism is a dogma of control fueled by unhappiness and misery. These are unhappy people. Look at these pictures from the convention. We didn't talk enough about this in the aftermath. As a nation. How strange it was in the final speech that Donald Trump would talk insanely for ninety three incoherent minutes, long, boring minutes, utterly detached from anyone around him, unable to see the boredom. Whatever Trump thinks about happiness, it precludes a smile or the possibility
that he might find one. His image conveys menace, because in his heart, that is what there is. Donald Trump hates he has enemies. They're not the Russians, they're not the Chinese. They're not terrorists who seek to murder and cause mayhem in our society. He doesn't hate injustice, he doesn't hate poverty, he doesn't hate war. He hates his
follow Americans. And he said so in his despotic speech celebrating the fact that his mugshot is now the number one best selling mugshot on a T shirt of all time, outpacing the king of rock and roll, Elvis and Frank Sinatra himself.
It's the number one selling mugshot in history. It beat Elvis, and it beat Frank Sinatra.
Did you know that Frank Sinatra.
Had a big one? Did you know he got arrested for something?
And I think Elvis had to fight, and I guess they should do something.
But Elvis was one.
Frank Sinatras too, and I'm proud to admit, and I'm proud to tell you that you have made mine bigger than both of them by a lot. It's the biggest selling mugshot ever.
Are you shitting me?
Look at these people applauding this insanity. If they are sitting behind this man, cheering this madness. The one thing I do not want for them is their ability to impose on us, specifically me and my my family. They're political judgments because they are lost in a fog. Donald Trump was peering in the Oval office window again, measuring the drapes. But do you know what happened?
She happened.
And she's a star, not a fading, boring one, Because Kamala Harris is a high achieving superstar who has met her moment. What a brilliant campaigner. She's about to take the ball and score five touchdowns with a brilliant VP pick followed by a successful convention. There's a simple thing that Donald Trump stands for. It's so obvious, it's so clear. Donald Trump is about Trump. He's a blusterer and a showman who somehow caught the middle current for a long
season of America's life. He thought he was going to ride it down the middle of the river, right back into power against an aging president who wouldn't yield it. But that president defied expectations and did with Donald Trump didn't expect, upended the race, and Kamala Harris has shot up like an Apollo eleven rocket, going to the moon
and beyond. Where she's going is to the White House as the forty seventh President of the United States of America in a time of turmoil and tribulation, and she will need the good faith and goodwill of all Americans. The struggle to put her there is not yet over, but it's well on its way to being. So if the election were tomorrow, Kamala Harris would win. And what a refreshing thing that is, to say, after a long winter of worry, a long spring of defiance against reality,
and a hot summer of resistance to win it. But all of that has yielded now and the Democratic Party is the Democratic Party again. It has reawakened a vast mosaic of Americans into a coalition that wants better. Better is the remedy to trump Ism. This man was a president, but what he really is is President Norman Desmond, a fading start, crying.
Desperately for attention.
His racist outbursts have undone him, his idiocy, his malice utterly exposed. Donald Trump is sinking and fading. He will be remembered for nothing but losing, for taking captive a great institution fueled by the cowardice of its elected politicians. But before they move on, the amnesia will take hold, and that amnesia will isolate the aging and elderly Trump.
He will be alone.
And forgotten, ranting and rambling to the million dollar members who pay for the show, until there are none left. The sea borders will rise on more a lago. The walls will grow a bit moldy, to smell like Trump, a bit musty and decomposing as time marches on.
Because the end is at hand.
Madam President defeated by a black woman. I guess that's what a black job is. President of the United States. But a new day is breaking. Pope is alive in America. The Democratic Convention is seventeen days away. What an exciting time. This is the warning get involved, fight for your country. I'm Steve Schmidt. This is the warning and I invite you to join. Subscribe on our sub stack, on our YouTube channel, follow us. Welcome to the community.