The Republicans got clobbered. The Democrats are gloating. And I’m more politically homeless than ever.

Well, talk about a bloodbath.

The Republicans got their asses handed to them last night. And they usually love it—judging by the way Grindr reportedly explodes during GOP conventions.

The Democrats reclaimed both houses of Congress, flipped seats in places that haven’t voted blue in decades, and sent Donald Trump and his MAGA faithful a message they couldn’t possibly miss:

“Get lost, losers.”

And here I sit, politically homeless since November 2024, watching the whole shitshow unfold.

When I walked away from the Democratic Party, I didn’t cross the aisle. I didn’t trade my blue jersey for a red one. I simply stopped believing in the party I’d identified with for fifty-two years, the party I thought represented my values and priorities. And when, after October 7, 2023, my Jewish peoplehood became my priority, well, the truth is out there.

The Democrats, as a bloc, are increasingly anti-Zionist, which I see as antisemitism cloaked in opposition to Israel and its policies. Hence, the vitriol, and the chanting in the streets, calls to burn it all down.

Calling myself an Independent felt good. Not because I suddenly discovered some grand political philosophy, but because I couldn’t stomach the alternatives.

And last night only reinforced my decision. Both parties are beyond problematic. Pathetic, even. Especially for pro-Israel Jews like me.

Trump was his usual blabbering, blubbering, blustering, bloviating, bubble-headed self, and the Republicans managed to squander their congressional majorities. They handed Democrats a victory of historic proportions. Whether voters were rejecting Trump, Republican policies, the economy, the Iran War, support for Israel, or some combination of all three, the message was unmistakable: Enough already.

But here’s my problem.

A rejection of the Republicans is not necessarily an endorsement of everything the Democrats stand for.

The Democrats will undoubtedly treat this victory as a mandate. That’s what political parties do. They mistake electoral success for unconditional love, when sometimes voters are simply choosing the lesser of two evils. When the slogan becomes, “Vote for the devil you know.” Well, don’t expect a glorious turnout or outcome.

Democrats will interpret every Republican defeat as proof that their magical thinking is divine right.

I doubt any good will come of this.

I’ve watched the Democratic Party drift away from the political home I once recognized. The ultra-woke agenda was why they lost in 2024. And the reaction to that is why they won last night. Winning cultural battles has proven to NOT be a winning strategy.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are expected to pick a team, put on the appropriate hat, and cheer like trained seals.

Well, allow me to dig into my No Party Preference position.

I’m Jewish. I’m gay. I’m a Zionist.

And don’t think Jews won’t get blamed for last night. Israel will be blamed because of the Iran War. Pro-Bibi people need to take a back seat.

The larger anti-Zionist presence in the new Congress threatens American funding for Israel. And it’s up to us Jews here in the diaspora to get our shit together and regroup.

I’ve written about this time and time again. Will we need to see Kristallnacht-style attacks and more violence against Jews before all the legacy Jewish organizations finally do something new?

One can hope. But living on a hope and a prayer won’t work in the long run.

The political conversation in America has become an exhausting exercise in ideological conformity. Disagree with one position and suddenly you’re accused of belonging to the other camp. There’s little room for nuance, independence, or the once perfectly acceptable notion that reasonable people can disagree.

Frankly, it’s sickening.

Last night’s election was a political earthquake. But earthquakes don’t necessarily produce better or safer buildings. They just leave a big pile of rubble.

What I’d love to see emerge from that rubble is a political movement that recognizes the millions of Americans who don’t fit neatly into either party’s increasingly rigid worldview.

I’m politically homeless. But I won’t be politically silent.