Some people still say Donald Trump can’t win—American citizens won’t let that happen. Others insist that he can, because it’s electoral votes that really count. But what most don’t realize is this: the damage may have already been done. The American dream, the “brand” that sells the west as a shining example of what other countries should aspire to be (leaders in the educated, free world) is warped, cracked and failing to convince its target market. And if you’re part of the complacent American public, including those moderate Republicans who sat back and said, “Nah…it’ll never happen”—you share some of the blame, and now would be a good time to start paying attention.

The simple fact that Donald Trump the reality star, the 4-times-bankrupt businessman with zero experience in international relations, or Internal, national government protocols, can rise to such a lofty position in the world of politics, just a hair away from the top spot as Republican nominee for President of the United States, should scare the hell out of you. More, it should scare the hell out of us all. Why? Because this makes him electable. This proves exactly how many American citizens harbor anger and resentment towards a system they feel is rigged against them—and make no mistake, these people are completely willing to vote based on that anger, even if that vote is against their best interests.

Mr. Trump may be a showman, a reality star and 4-times-bankrupt, but the position of influence he currently holds is proof-positive that he is not stupid. He encapsulates the image of a politician while he whips up that good ol’ boy, working-class, “us against them” rally-cry. And only recently has the Republican party begun to show its uneasiness via rumors suggesting that the upcoming Republican Convention may be brokered. True to form, Mr. Trump responded: “I think you’d have riots.” Once again feeding into the fears and the prejudices of millions of disenfranchised and disillusioned voters.

A demagogue is defined as “a leader who makes use of popular prejudices and false claims and promises in order to gain power.” All one has to do is watch the videos, or read the transcripts from any one of the dozens of Trump rallies that have taken place over the past month, to see this definition in all its day-glo orange splendor. He uses fear borne out of economic uncertainty, twists it around words and phrases created to incite emotion and then adds in a bit of violence to drive home his twisted and disingenuous message. Further, his security team uses brutish tactics, discriminatory practices and violence to help bolster Mr. Trump’s self-importance. This is a frightening thing to witness. In fact, a knowledgeable and alert writer by the name of Jim Wright penned an article comparing these tactics and the rise in violence at Mr. Trump’s rallies to the known, documented, historical events that lead to the formation of the Brown Shirts—the similarities are sickening.

And more alarming are the millions of Americans who are crawling out from racist-built oubliettes in which they hid to voice their support—and that number continues to grow. Even after the last two weeks of increased protests, there has been no loss of velocity from the juggernaut of the Trump campaign and its caustic hate baiting. This is the same man that said he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, shoot someone and not lose any supporters. Prophetic words ringing true.

History is repeating itself at a mind-boggling pace. And I can’t help but think my country is heading down a very dark road toward another violent revolution—only there won’t be anything remotely similar to a “United” States once all is said and done. Being angry is easy, it’s finding the common ground that’s always the trickiest thing to accomplish—and there is an old saying that warns us about things that seem “too” easy to be true. We’re teetering on a razor-thin rope stretched over a churning, black sea; and we are faced with two choices: ride that easy wave of emotion to the distant beach and damn anyone who gets pulled under in our wake, or flex our muscle and continue edging our way back onto the solid ground of growth which sits just a few hundred yards beyond our grasp. And there’s a mighty strong wind blowing.