I’m Coming Down With TDS
A Week in the Life of an Editorial Cartoonist
Saturday November 16, 2024
Lately, it feels like I’ve caught something chronic—a relentless obsession with one person who seems to be everywhere, no matter the issue or story. By Thursday, I had to admit it: I have Trump on the brain. My symptoms match a syndrome critics call “Trump Derangement Syndrome” (TDS), and while no official health plan covers it (including my universal health care coverage,) anyone who works in the news knows exactly what I mean. The trolls have it right; call me gaslit, call me afflicted—whatever it is, TDS is real, and it’s exhausting. It drives every headline, shapes every conversation, and hijacks the virtual ink in my iPencil.
November 11, 2022
Monday started innocently enough, though even that day had me wondering about the boundaries of satire. I don’t typically draw for Monday papers, but this week was different—it was Remembrance Day here in Canada. Part of me hesitated, unsure whether to post a cartoon on a day traditionally reserved for solemn reflection. Ultimately, I took the risk, resurrecting a cartoon I’d drawn the year prior. I couldn’t ignore the growing shadow cast over Ukraine, inching ever closer to an “appeasement” stance that seems inevitable in a world where Trump and his political allies—Marjorie Taylor Greene, Speaker Kevin McCarthy, and their ilk—are rethinking international loyalties and agreements. The chilling possibility of Ukraine facing concessions to Putin, courtesy of Trump’s diplomatic efforts, made the decision feel necessary. Posting it was like sounding an alarm, even if only a few might hear it.
November 12, 2024
By Tuesday, the TDS symptoms were intensifying. My cartoon illustrated a clock ticking ominously near midnight at the U.S.-Canada border. PM Justin Trudeau and Conservative wannabe PM Poilievre scramble to put up a flimsy fence as Trump’s shadowy figure hovers nearby ominously. With only a couple of months until inauguration, Canadian officials seem woefully unprepared for what may be coming—a surge of desperate migrants fleeing Trump’s new deportation policies. Canada’s leaders know the stakes, but the lack of any real plan to handle the potential influx adds a layer of urgency and irony. The cartoon revealed Canada’s precarious position, caught between compassion and practical limitations, yet still lacking the resources or unity to respond effectively.
November 12, 2024
Wednesday rolled around, and with it came the start of COP29 in Azerbaijan. This is the type of summit that, in a better world, might have been an inspiring event. But my cartoon had little hope to offer. I drew António Guterres, collecting donations for the “Green Climate Fund” like a charity case, while Trump shouts “Drill, baby, drill!” from a window. Outside, nature retaliates with storm clouds, wildfires, and floods—a fitting backdrop to the hypocrisy and lost potential that the summit has come to symbolize. Unfolding before us is yet a well-rehearsed play of grand promises falling flat, with rich nations failing to meet their modest climate pledges. Admittedly, it’s hard to take the ask seriously when folks like the Taliban shake their fingers at the west while waiting for their green entitlement. As world leaders hesitate, the climate crisis barrels forward, with poor and vulnerable countries left abandoned on the front lines.
November 14, 2024
Thursday, however, was when my self-diagnosed TDS truly hit fever pitch. The historic spectacle of Trump and Biden meeting, coupled with the announcement of Trump’s cabinet choices, gave me all the fuel I needed for a darkly absurd cartoon. In the Oval Office, I sketched an elaborate throne for Trump being moved in, a mini-throne for Elon Musk, and a pillory for anyone daring to dissent. Beneath the satire, though, was a genuine sense of unease: Trump’s appointments reflect an administration more despotic than democratic, more interested in power consolidation than public service.
Take Pete Hegseth, the tatted-up Fox News weekend commentator nominated for Secretary of Defense. Hegseth’s controversial stances—opposing diversity programs in the military and casting doubts on the role of women—are concerning enough, but his connections to the Stop the Steal movement take things to an alarming level. And then there’s Trump’s plan to create a “warrior board,” effectively politicizing military promotions. Watching him manipulate the military for ideological purposes feels like a not so slow descent into authoritarianism.
Adding to the bizarre lineup are appointments like Elon Musk to lead the “Department of Government Efficiency” (a euphemism for regulatory gutting), with Vivek Ramaswamy by his side. Musk, the richest man in the world with a history of divisive social media antics, could bring his corporate agenda right into the heart of the federal budget. And don’t even get me started on Huckabee’s ambassadorship to Israel or Stephen Miller’s return as Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy. Each appointment reads like a power move in an autocrat’s playbook.
Consideration on how to beat down northern frenemies here in Canada was announced with the selection of Mike Waltz (no relation to the affable one-time VP running-mate Tim Walz.) He's been selected by Donald Trump for the powerful position of national security adviser in the next White House. Waltz has done some trolling dance moves on Justin Trudeau in recent months with tubthumping texts favourable to Pierre Poilievre’s own trolling of the Prime Minister.
Wayback machine: July 21, 2020
And alleged pedophile for congressman Matt Gaetz billed as Trump’s useful idiot Attorney-General? This pick comes in just as the House of Rep— oh, this just in, quack politician Robert Kennedy Jr. has just been nominated as Secretary of Health… why do any of these appointments come as a surprise? Crazy appointee news trumps crazy appointee news. In this reposting of a cartoon I drew in the Summer of 2020, who would have guessed that an advisory board of quacks would actually become a thing a few years later, at that the Trump’s right hand to head this team would be as just as ridiculous if not more than the loons depicted, a guy with a worm poking out of his brain?
November 14, 2024
By Friday, I was in dire need of a mental break. Amidst the noise of Trump’s ascent, Taylor Swift’s arrival in Toronto for her Eras Tour felt like an unexpectedly comforting event. Watching her fans flood the streets was a refreshing reminder of a different kind of power—one rooted in artistry, resilience, and community rather than political machinations. For the coming six nights, Swift brings people together across generations, offering a much-needed moment of joy and escape. Her tour, with all its glitter and devotion, seems like a reminder that not all is doom and gloom, that there is still beauty and resilience to celebrate, even when the political landscape feels like a dark cloud overhead.
As a father of Swifties I can proudly boast of knowing the tune “Shake it off” as it’s the only song I know of hers and the basis of the gag in the following editorial cartoon.
And with that, the week ended—a whirlwind of Trump-inspired editorial cartoons, commentary, and satire, each day a new symptom in the condition I’ve come to accept as “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” In this era, as cartoonists, we hold up our pens like mirrors, capturing both the absurdity and the anxiety of our times. And while it’s draining, maybe even a little maddening, it’s our job to keep sketching out the truth, one caricature at a time.
Before I wrap up a NY writer of this comment under a piece in an established U.S. media outlet resonated with me as a possible action plan to consider. It goes like this:
Since the election, I have decided to pretend that NY seceded from the US and treat news coming from DC as if it has come from a foreign country. It’s of interest, but remotely so. Regarding this news, I feel the same way. It’s not a matter over which I have any control, and I have about as much interest as I would reading about the appointment of a new cabinet minister in Hungary or Russia. My focus is instead on enhancing my local and state communities, but of course also protecting them if attacked by that foreign country south of the New York—Pennsylvania border.
Perhaps next week, the syndrome will break, and I can go back to the less deranged subjects much closer to home. Fingers crossed.