Editor’s Note: The author of this column is an officer for Geaux Vote LSU, a nonpartisan student organization. The views expressed are his own and are not intended to be taken as Geaux Vote’s position.

“There’s literally a floating island of garbage in the ocean right now…I think it’s called Puerto Rico.”

That’s the now infamous joke comedian Tony Hinchcliffe made at former President Donald Trump’s massive October 27 campaign rally at Madison Square Garden in New York City.

It was widely criticized by celebrities and politicians alike, including by several prominent Latino Republican members of Congress.

In some corners of the media, the joke and the rally were characterized as the “October surprise” that could cost Trump the election and hand the White House to Vice President Kamala Harris.

However, that implies that there was anything “surprising” about the rhetoric Trump and some of his prominent associates and acolytes put on display. Nothing was surprising. 

Hinchcliffe’s racist joke was predicated on the supposed inferiority of Puerto Ricans compared to their fellow Americans on the mainland. It got a lot of attention online, but it was just the most prominent example of what it truly means when people on the center and the left refer to Trumpism as “fascism.”

Sure, you could sit and argue for hours about the fuzzy academic definition of fascism and how Trump compares to the likes of historical fascist dictators like Hitler, Mussolini and Franco. You could talk about the excessive glorification of masculinity, militarism, ethnonationalism, the personality cult or the dehumanizing rhetoric. All of that was certainly on display at the MSG rally.

You could also wax poetic about the eternal conflict between the righteous liberal democratic American spirit and the wicked, illiberal spectral boogeymen of bigotry and authoritarianism.

However, semantic quibbles and grand narratives will do nothing to convince undecided voters or to claw back the former president’s less-devoted supporters. Those methods certainly won’t break the minds of his committed flock of followers.

Nevertheless, the focus needs to be placed on what 21st-century American fascism would look like in reality.

Think less “the re-election of Donald Trump would signal the end of American democracy as we know it” or “Trump would usher in a white christo-fascist dictatorship” and more “a second Trump presidency would tangibly hurt disadvantaged groups and individuals.”

That’s what you should think when politicians, pundits and activists call Trump and his ilk “fascists.”

Some of his voters may interject with: “Well, I’m not a fascist. I just think some of his policies would be better for the country.”

Well, the truth is that you don’t have to be a committed ideological fascist to support a fascist political movement or be responsible for putting that movement into a position of power. In fact, Trump himself isn’t really a fascist. 

He’s just a husk—a vessel that different factions of the reactionary right inhabit to thrust their ideology into the public forum and onto the rule books. He’s a narcissist who views politics as a path towards self-gratification. And he’s a demagogic figurehead that can be used to easily dupe millions of voters into casting their ballots for fascism disguised as economic populism and faux patriotism. There’s no connective tissue between his thoughts; his brain fires off based on raw instinct.

Many of his less-enthusiastic supporters are also motivated by self-interest or another ideology they think he represents. However, the actual America that an unfettered Trump administration would usher in would indeed be fascistic.

Plenty of Trump’s supporters do dislike or at least feel uncomfortable with the presence and recognition of racial, sexual, and other minorities. But most wouldn’t say they support creating their ideal society through the hammer of state power.

The truly devoted elite of Trump’s fascist movement is the not-so-diverse collection of wealthy donors, think tanks, public intellectuals, media personalities and elected officials who would, if given the chance, put in effect extreme social conservatism through force.

The election is November 5. That’s the day after this article’s publication date. Heed this columnist’s warning. There are only two possible outcomes: either Harris wins, and fascism is kept at bay (for now), or Trump wins, and the country’s march towards fascism crosses the point of no return.

A vote for Harris is a vote against fascism. It’s a vote to protect all disadvantaged people from the harsh thumb of a hyper-conservative state willing to crush their lives, livelihoods and identities into a paste of blood and gore.

A vote for Trump is a vote for fascism. It’s a vote to offer up all disadvantaged people as a sacrifice to the prejudiced eyes of America’s far-right.

A vote for a third-party candidate or completely abstaining from the election are both pure cowardice in the face of an extremely consequential election. Yes, that’s said every time—because it’s true every time. So, there’s really one thing to do to preserve democracy.

If you vote for Trump because you think he’ll lower the cost of living, decrease American involvement in foreign affairs or just shake up the status quo, then you’re still supporting fascism. You may not like to admit it, but it’s true. 

Hopefully, you can sleep soundly when his state-sanctioned goons castrate your gay brother, lynch your black coworker or pressure your trans niece into committing suicide.

In fascist imagery, the ancient Roman fasces, a bundle of rods bound together around an ax, is often used to represent the sheer power of the state. 

If you vote for Trump, you’re voting to unbind the ax and place it in the hands of his movement. Do you really think they aren’t prepared to use it?

Matthew Pellittieri is a 20-year-old history and political science junior from Ponchatoula, La.