Maybe in the final act, there's room for a Donald Trump character--and Donald Trump will play him as well as anybody will. And, there's room for a Hillary Clinton. Maybe, just maybe, there's room for everything and everyone, and it's just that with our novice minds we have no idea of what goes where or why. Maybe In the end there's that final scene and the music plays and all the characters sway--for the first time together--showing that they are all choreographed by the same director, and that they resonate to one human chord. Maybe even the most despised character sheds a tear in that scene, and we find ourselves crying along with him as though he were an uncle, just redeemed from the grip of some colossal error, and we cannot wait to hug him. And if, as with the great Greek tragedies of ancient times, we catch a glimpse of ourselves, and cathart ourselves to a higher plane of awareness, then maybe the whole thing will have been worth it.