Good people of 2017! I am Bartomazz, and I come to you from the future to apologize. I was sent here from 3017 to prevent the Trump Presidency. Unfortunately, I was sent by myself, and it was, just, way too hard. I was 100% not up to it, so it’s unfolding exactly as it did before. Outside of my mission, your timeframe is most enjoyable (we don’t have fried chicken in the future, yum!) and I’m really, really sorry for letting you down.

I landed here in March 2016, after slingshotting my one-man chrono-pod around the Sun. Our scientists thought that would give me plenty of time to intervene, and create a brighter future for humankind. Looking back, I think I probably should have gone to, like, 1960. Because, clearly, the conditions that resulted in what we call “The Cataclysm” are rooted in massive, systemic, generation-spanning issues, and there was no way I was gonna have any real impact. Frankly, our scientists set me up for failure. How the Hell was I supposed to defeat centuries of Racism, Sexism, & Classism by myself in 18 months? Why didn’t the science team consult sociologists while planning this mission? We had a legally-mandated sentient chicken representative, but no social scientist? Surely an historian or anthropologist could have pointed out the complexity of the problem.

I know a lot of you are probably wondering why I didn’t just JFK him. Isn’t murdering a sluggish old man from the window of a book depository more doable than fixing Racism? Well, duh! When I saw one of his incoherent “speeches,” that was literally my first instinct. But I did the math, and realized that would actually make things worse. Someone articulate would win instead, capable of working with Congress to pass smartly evil laws, instead of half-assedly repealing things out of spite. Is that what you’d prefer? I didn’t think so. And even if I did it, by my calculations I’d have to bump off at least 1,363 politicians before a Republican with any integrity would have a chance at the nomination. Not feasible, people! Now, if I had landed in 1960, I could have run for office and tried to prevent the rise of those amoral “Religious Right” scumbags. That would have helped a lot! I also would’ve been able to meet Colonel Sanders, and thank him for KFC. I don’t think you people truly appreciate just how good fried chicken is! You’ll miss it when it’s gone. But, I only had enough Moxikug crystals for one trip, so, here we are.

When I figured out that the direct approach wouldn’t work, I tried playing kingmaker, instead. I had a sports almanac for gambling to cover living expenses; I used it to win enough money to start a SuperPAC. I thought I could try to balance Congress, and win key races for the Dems. Maybe that would at least limit the damage, right? Wrong. The Koch Brothers kicked my ass! Anyone I tried to hire, they poached. They bought up all the good URLs. They even bribed an electrician to wire my office wrong! It burned down during the first week! I was way out of my league, guys. I ate sooo much Colonel after the fire.

Sidebar: I feel real weird eating chicken, because I have chicken friends in the future. Just like I feel weird seeing a self-driving car that isn’t hunting me for sport. But your chickens aren’t sentient, yet, so it’s kind of OK, yeah? Man, KFC tastes so good. Binging junk food counts as “self-care,” right? You guys are into that. Anyway, what were the scientists thinking, sending back just one person?

Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this, but the stupid plan was doomed from the start. They shoulda sent, like, thousands of us, back to 1960, so we could truly dismantle the legislative legacy of Jim Crow, craft real banking regulations, and prevent the assassinations of MLK, JFK, & PGK. Oh, what, you haven’t heard of PGK? Well yeah, that’s the problem. I suppose they could still send more time travelers, but if they did, we’d know, right? So I guess we just gotta deal with this together. If you have Trump-supporting friends, talk to them, try to open their hearts. If you’re an artist, get political with your work. If you can march, call Senators, afford to donate, do it. Even just being a supportive ear or buying an eight-piece for someone is better than nothing! But whatever you do, however you resist, stay away from the Foster Farms Livingston Hatchery on October 21st, 2019.

TRUST ME.