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A decade from now, when the Trump years are an awful memory, along with NATO, the security alliance that kept the peace after World War II, an alliance, and a peace that are both being dismantled by a spoiled child.

A memory, along with our last chance to avoid catastrophic climate change, a memory along

with the idea that the occupants of the White House are not there to profit off their tenure.

A decade from now, we're going to remember all the wrong names.

We're going to remember Jared and Steve and Ivanka and

Sean and Melania and Flynn and Manafort and Paul and Mitch, maybe even Tiffany. We're going to

remember the worst. We won't even have to try. Their names are going to be in the news and in our

faces for years to come. We're going to be

hearing their names long after they're all rotting in fucking prison, fingers crossed. The

worst, we will remember. They will be impossible to forget. We have to make an effort,

though, to remember the best.

Ricky Best. Tilesian Mirden Namkemecchi and Micah, David Cole, Fletcher.

They were the three men who intervened when a white supremacist, a deranged Trump supporter,

you know, a Trump supporter. At this point, we don't need to qualify

Trump supporter with deranged. A white supremacist, a Trump supporter, got on a train in Portland,

Oregon, and began to scream racist and anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant abuse at two women,

both of them brown, one of them wearing a head scarf. Two of the men

who stood up to that bigotry and that rage, two of the men who stood up to Donald Trump's vision

for America, two of the men who refused to be bystanders died on that train. Their throats

...