Now that Mother Liberty is filing for divorce from the White House, the Constitution can freely begin dating conspiracy theorists or rewrite itself as a sequel to Mein Kampf. Now that peace of mind has been made a big ticket item, I can barely afford a bed of nails for my patience. Now that my confidence has gone on a crash diet, my uncertainty can finally fit into size 0 jeans. Now that LA is threatening to remove Trump’s star from the Hollywood Walk of Fame, maybe they can offer the space to Obama or Elizabeth Warren. Now that I own a coffin constructed from parentheses, I can at least rest assured I’ll spend eternity as a semi relevant sidenote.