Toss those Obama-era ideas of hope and change out the window, friends. We don’t need insurance (and, truth be told, millions of Americans never had it, anyway). Actually, the promises provided by the bleak Republican future are that you can get your health fix through over-the-counter drugs. I’m not talking about aspirin. I’m talking about Clorox. Inject it right into your veins. The president says it’s so. Pandemic solved!

Trump is snake oil-peddling at its zenith, except he’s peddling less than hope. He’s peddling absurdity. He’s peddling inanity (and insanity). He’s peddling bad faith. Then again, I don’t want to take away from what may actually be a brilliant idea in disguise. If we can’t have good ideas and change, maybe a total wipe-out of humanity really is the answer. Nothing else seems to be working, after all. Why not this? A little food coloring and, I assure you, a cup of bleach can be as delicious as any old Tide pod.

Look, what do you really have to lose, anyway? Your life? It’s boring. You’re probably watching TV, or cruising Facebook in search of a salient political argument over a meme. Or wasting the day trying to secure your unemployment benefits. Good luck with that. Can intravenous bleach really be dangerous? A Twinkie can last 50 years on the shelf, and no doubt you’ve eaten that. Don’t tell me all the choices you’ve made have been good ones. This could save your life. I heard it myself, on TV. Don’t you want to survive?

And yes, I know that this pandemic could have been far less devastating, if only we’d done something sooner. Maybe if President Trump had not fired the entire pandemic team in 2018 — a team he never replaced — the United States would not be winning the race no one currently wants to be winning: the coronavirus death race. Maybe if he cared more about the lives of others than he does about his ridiculous television persona, he would not have cut funding to the World Health Organization. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

And I know that a better healthcare system would mean less devastation moving forward — since we don’t yet know the economic toll we’ll face when this is over, or the ticker-tape of medical bills that will likely arrive at the doorsteps of those who are least equipped to deal with them. And I know that states like mine, New York, which provide ballast to less economically stable states, like Kentucky, might have to just suck it up and file for bankruptcy, according to Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell, because he just isn’t going to budge to help people who are dying because dying isn’t an excuse for not being able to pay your bills, unless you live in Kentucky, like he does, and depend on states like New York to fund your lifestyle.

All of those details are just… details, you know? And why get mired in details when there are real and fundamental solutions to life problems out there? One such solution is to go out and swallow bleach. I mean it. Bleach feels like the perfect cocktail for those of us who believe that voting for literally any other person in the world probably would have yielded a different set of circumstances than we now find ourselves in. When I think of the past several years, and how it has gone for everyone in this country, raising a glass of champagne actually feels too polite. So while I may not agree with the president as far as the method of getting the bleach into my body (I’m more of an imbiber myself), I have to give him credit where credit is due: this country needs a serious disinfectant.