It’s come to this: the 2024 presidential election is a toss-up. Fifty-fifty. All the polls say this could go either way.

This isn’t how I saw this playing out in July. After Biden dropped out, my victory was all but assured. But you can’t count a historically unpopular moron like Donald Trump out. With his crackpot team of dimwitted transphobes, he has run a campaign with the enthusiasm of a man who would rather be golfing. And you simply have to tip your hat to that high level of strategy and expertise.

I don’t like it any more than you all, but we’re currently neck and neck with a guy whose fascist policies fall apart ten minutes into a friendly interview with Joe Rogan. That’s a testament not only to Trump’s lethargic spirit but also his undeniable lack of command of which lies he’s currently telling. Say what you will about his abrasive personality, poor track record (both in office and trying to overthrow it), and a VP pick with all the momentum of a 2009 Hyundai Elantra driving uphill with the emergency brake—the man is tough to beat.

I’m just as befuddled and frustrated as you. We should be able to make an open and shut case against Donald Trump, a man so unpopular that multiple attempts on his own life were met with a universal shrug. But every time we think we have him beat, he arrives three hours late to one of his sparsely attended rallies and sways silently to the Village People. When I saw that footage, I turned to Tim Walz and said, “Damn, he just might win Michigan.” I mean, how are we supposed to beat a guy who can speak so eloquently about the size, shape, and length of Arnold Palmer’s penis?! There’s no shame in being within inches of that. And there’s no shame in being so close in the polls, either.

It’s not for a lack of trying. I’m proud of our campaign. We have built a strong coalition of people from all walks of life, be they male or female, young or old, Zionist or pro-Israel. But Donald Trump is a master campaigner. He knows exactly what the average undecided voter in Pennsylvania wants to hear: a veritable jazz trio of Elon Musk’s pathetic, try-hard ramblings, half-remembered anecdotes of meeting Andrew Lloyd Webber in 1985, and Mein Kampf. Here is a man who’s read at least one book and thought about his place in the world for easily dozens of seconds. It’s honestly a miracle we’ve managed to break even.

But does that mean we’ve given up hope? No! We are working tirelessly to counter any potential “October surprise” Donald Trump might deliver our way. But it’s tough—who knows what kind of curveball this seventy-eight-year-old man who hasn’t changed since the Mets last won the World Series will throw at us? Will he openly commit another crime, leaving nothing behind save for a long, detailed trail of evidence? Perhaps he’ll put on an even bigger Nazi rally, where all of Long Island’s most retired cops and dullest housewives can sit in stony silence as America’s least-known comic struggles his way through racist street jokes? Or maybe Trump will just die, making history as the first-ever corpse to win the Oval Office?

Whatever he decides to do, come November 5, it’s truly a coin flip—heads, I win; tails, three million Americans get deported. But when the stakes are this high, and your opponent is so uniquely reviled, all you can do is leave it up to chance.