Tomorrow our descent into the Hellmouth begins. (Forecasts call for a cold day at the Hellmouth. Figures.) Donald Trump will go to the Rotunda his mob defiled to…well, defile it again with his presence. He’ll take an oath we all know he’ll violate because last time he violated it at least twice, but that’s okay because the Chief Justice administering the oath gave Trump the license to crime last summer. This will be followed by a speech that will fall somewhere between his 90 minute evil grandpa ramble at the Republican Convention last year and Hitler’s 1933 speech at the Sportspalast. (If Stephen Miller wrote it, expect it to lean heavily toward the latter end of the spectrum.) Afterwards a gaggle of pundits will be there to jab with each other and it’s 6-to-5 and pick ’em whether Van Jones will say that this is the moment Donald Trump became President.

Do I need to watch this? Does anyone?

Not really. No.

The Inaugural ceremony, like so much in our degraded era, aims to put a respectable gloss on people and systems that no longer deserve any respect. Thanks to a long historical process that led one of our two major political parties to devolve into a criminal gang, we’re about to be ruled by a bunch of zany, bigoted goons, and we no longer have the comfort of thinking it’s without the consent of (slightly under half of) the ruled. They’re about to spend the next four years doing to the rest of the government what their mob did to Nancy Pelosi’s office, and by the end it’s not clear what’ll be left to keep our lives from being brutish, nasty, and short.

There isn’t a whole hell of a lot we can do to stop it right now. (And sadly some of the people we elected to try have decided that trying is just too haaaard.) But one thing we can do is refuse to be taken in by the false glamour of it all, the insistence from 24-Hours news chyrons that THIS IS IMPORTANT. Because honestly, nothing Donald Trump has ever said has ever been important. He has no important thoughts to express because he has no thoughts. He’s an idiot and a liar and a bullshitter, and giving what comes out of his face attention is a waste of life. At this point, I care about what he and his minions do. I care about stopping them or, failing that, documenting them so that maybe someday, when we’ve passed this era and managed to build out of its wreckage a society that gives half a damn about justice and a straight story, we can remember what he did and arrange things so that no rapey rich chud ever gets to do them again.

So Trump can stick Inauguration Day up his capacious ass. This and every other speech, press conference, and aimless wander around the South Lawn. If he announces plans for his resignation and suicide, I may catch it later on YouTube–after I’ve heard he’s followed through. Otherwise, even though I’m about to fall into Hell, to Hell with Trump first.