Emergency sirens pass by my home every day. This is no surprise. I live in an apartment on a busy thoroughfare that is only a few blocks from a big hospital. I also get to see helicopters descend on the hospital rooftop. Ongoing emergencies and false alarms are a part of living in a big city, even if they don’t directly affect one every day. But that sound is still a soundtrack of my life, and I don’t mind. It’s comforting, in a way. Infrastructure and society are intact. “Your Tax Dollars At Work,” as the sign confirms.

The sound that grates me; the sound that settles in my stomach like sour milk; the sound that makes me perk up like a gazelle at a watering hole–is when I can hear the siren stop. If I can hear the siren stop, I know the emergency is nearby. It has encroached on my space and something is amiss. It may be nothing. Or it may be everything. Until I can put together the pieces, the bits of radio chatter and amount of police presence, and if there is that acrid smell of vinyl siding burning or not, my adrenaline won’t return to normal levels.

America was the apartment on the busy road for a bit too long. We would hear the sirens but would not become alarmed unless it directly affected us. And then November 9, 2016 came, and suddenly an entire nation has to care. An entire nation was transported to a freshman political science class and is desperately skimming the textbook for something relevant or thoughtful to say before the professor calls on you. Except there’s no professor. No one is taking attendance or has a lesson plan. It’s a cacophony of voices emanating from the left, the right, the center, the ceiling, the floor, the subbasement, even the creepy janitor’s closet. It’s layered and disjointed and not even the cocktail party effect can help you.

I truly believe that just like the printing press, the telephone, and the subway, Social Media will be the great equalizer. For one, it’s free. People love free shit. I’ve seen people stand in lines for hours or even days for free shit. Never, ever underestimate the power of someone getting something for nothing. Second, social media allows you to think you know the world. And I’m saying “think” because there’s no way our brains can comprehend where everyone is coming from. But it least one can admit it broadens our perspective.

Or does it? This election cycle introduced words like “echo chamber” and “elite bubble” into our lexicon. They are derided and paraded as if people my age (the elder millennials) had never seen if before. When Facebook started, it was the ultimate elite bubble. You were only allowed on it if you had a .edu email address. That means that only kids 17-24ish who were enrolled in college could be on it. And if a professor somehow sneaked in there, the response was more like “Ew, look at this old dude trying to be cool.” We used it to ask for homework assignments, or see what the relationship status was of a new classmate, or once in awhile share 6-7 photos from last night that took 45 minutes to upload. It was boring by today’s standards, but it was addictive and it was ours.

Then it was open and the internet landscape didn’t just change, it was atomic bombed. And we grew up with it. We thought we were molding what Twitter and Facebook and Instagram would become, but as soon as advertisers and shareholders walked into the room, our control walked out. Money may now be 1s and 0s, but it is just as powerful as when it was 50s and 100s. I’m not saying anything shocking or revealing. We didn’t get something for nothing. We got sold out to the highest bidder while we were standing in line for our free t-shirt.

So do we even have control over our own thoughts anymore? Of course we fucking do. You are not a bit part in a dystopian young adult series. Here’s what you don’t have control of: OTHER people. You didn’t realize how many OTHER people were out there until November 9, 2016. You probably didn’t even think they existed, because their thinking and logic sounded too outlandish to be true. I was disgusted to find out that so many people on the internet actually leave their house every day and interact with other humans. And animals. An American middle age male Nazi was a fairy tale made up to make the internet more colorful, right? I made that pun on purpose and I will own it.

But HOW? How were there so many OTHER people you didn’t know about? Because for all mythical purposes, Trump is a siren. And not just the loud, spinning, obnoxious kind. I mean, he is the very definition of the metaphorical siren.

His wails, screams, and banshee calls lured in so many people who were despondent. Actually, despondent is too weak of a word. People were downright desperate. People believed that their own core values were being taken away from them, and they felt they lost control. Here’s the fun fact though: they would have felt this way no matter who was president for the past 8 years. Or 16. Or 20. There’s a part of America that always feels like time forgot them. And I truly believe that they aren’t being over-dramatic or uniformed. They see a country going full steam ahead and someone forgot to ask them if they wanted a ride.

However, Trump is luring them to their doom and they may not even realize it. They are “respecting” his choices and “giving him a chance.” And they are missing the fact that they are about to be shattered to bits on craggy rock.

So who are the rest of us, if the others are out there. Are we Odysseus strapped to the mast? Are we his crew who stuffed their ears and refused to be tempted. Are we other sirens? Trying to yell the loudest to get people to our island?

It doesn’t matter. You could be all three. Or none. Retreat to your own island and care about other things. However, for those who are invested; who are worried about their own future, the siren is going to be there, luring you in with one form of rhetoric or another. This is a country where we are free to do that, as politicians and Glenn Beck have proved time and time again. Anyone is allowed to wail and scream as loud as they want, because this is America. What we all need to be worried about–what is going to make my stomach drop–is when we can hear the siren stop.