Aug. 11, 2016 ā Iām writing to you because your dad is not well.
Every day he continues his spiral downward ā and after his call for gun owners to commit acts of violence against Mrs. Clinton, it is clear he needs help, serious help. His comments and behavior have become more and more bizarre and detached from reality. He is in need of an intervention. And I believe only you can conduct it.
He trusts you. He believes in you. Although I donāt know you personally, you seem to be a very smart and together woman. I think he will listen to you. He must because he is now not simply a danger to himself, he has put the next president of the United States in harms way. He has encouraged and given permission to the unhinged and the deranged to essentially assassinate Hillary Clinton. Her life is now in worse danger than it already was ā and should anything happen, that will not only be on his head but also on those closest to him if they stand by and do nothing. I say this with the utmost kindness, care and concern for you, and I know you will do the right thing. Bring him in, off the road, away from the crowds. Now. Tonight.
And when you do, here is what a good friend of mine, a former counselor and social worker, Jeff Gibbs, suggests that you say to him:
Dad, we need to have a chat. Are you feeling okay? Do you have a minute? Please sit down. Because this isnāt going to be easy. No, I am not pregnant. No, what is going on is⦠is⦠I am really, really worried about my father. About you.
Dad, I owe everything to you. Youāve built an empire, a brand and a business for the ages. You have taken care of me, inspired me and, through your example, have made me who I am: a self-confident, honest-to-a-flaw, woman.
But Dad, I am deeply worried. You havenāt been yourself lately. The father I know is not a hater, not someone who encourages violence. Dad, you used to be A LIBERAL. You raised me as a liberal! The Clintons were your friends ā Chelsea is one of my best friends! And now youāre joking that Hillary should be assassinated? Really?
Dad, I hate to say this, but youāre making me scared, youāre making my friends scared, and youāre scaring the whole country.
Dad⦠Dad, sit down! Theyāll wait. I am not finished. Donāt get angry. Try to listen.
Yes, I know they love it, the crowd goes wild. But not for YOU. They donāt love YOU. They love the show that you put on. But people that hunger for red meat will turn on you in a minute. No, they donāt love you. I love you. I will always love you. And I see you hurting yourself ā and youāre hurting ME, Dad.
Donāt get upset! Youāre still the handsomest billionaire I know. I will always love you. Melania will always love you. Vladimir will always love you⦠OK, maybe that wasnāt funny. But you get my point. This running for President thing is destroying the dad I have known and loved. And honestly, you and I both know you didnāt really want this job to begin with! You just wanted to make a point. Ok, well, POINT MADE! You did it! Now, letās stop and get some help.
I am asking you, right now, to give it up. To leave the race. Let that nice man from Indiana run things. Your place in history is secure. You need to withdraw. Move on, for your sake, for the countryās sake, for my sake.
The man who raised me was the man who, for no charge, built a huge ice rink in Central Park for all the people to use! You struck deals with some of the biggest assholes on the planet in finance and politics and yet remained friends, mostly. You built a family that loves you. I want that dad back! And I worry that, if you donāt stop now, neither you nor the country will ever recover.
There, there, Dad, itās okay, let it out. Let it out because I know beneath that gruff, tough, handsome exterior is a little boy who just never got enough love. And that little boy needs some time to find himself again.
Letās you and I walk out there now right now. The cameras are all set up and waiting. You can make up whatever excuse you want. You can blame whomever you want. Youāre good at that! I just know this canāt go on, and you know it, too.
Take my hand, letās end this. And by tomorrow you and I will be sipping Martinis on our yacht in the Hamptons with Chelsea and the friends we still have left. I love you, Dad. Letās do this. Thatās right, take my hand, here we goā¦
Ivanka, I have faith in you that you can do this. I know Iāve called your dad ācrazyā before, but I was speaking politically, not clinically. This has gone beyond ācrazyā. The entire nation ā in fact, the entire world ā needs you to step forward and do the courageous thing history will praise you for: the loving act of a brilliant daughter who also loved her beleaguered country enough to say her father wasnāt well and needed help.
Thank you, Ivanka.
Yours,
Michael Moore
