MAGA takes over the Huntington Beach Library

Just because Gracey Van Der Mark is certifiably insane doesn't mean she can't also be a ruinous moron.

There is a woman on the Huntington Beach City Council named Gracey Van Der Mark. If you’re a fan of batshit crazy, spineless, racist, Holocaust-denying conspiracy theorists who speak ineloquently, drool at the thought of banning books, own at least 500 red MAGA caps and kneel before Donald Trump as a servant does her master—Van Der Mark is your gold standard.

In short: She’s nuts.

Don’t believe me? Read this Los Angeles Times piece from last year. It chronicles the exploits of a uniquely cruel and bitter woman who (and, admittedly, this is mere educated guess) had her lunch stolen one too many times as a youngster and steeled herself for lifelong revenge.

And, well, in Orange County’s vast oceans of hard-right awfulness, Van Der Mark stands out as, truly, the region’s most warped figure. Which is to say, she is a fool who believes herself to be wise. A dolt who fancies herself Einsteinian. One who figures—deep down—she is a protector of the common good, while failing to be enlightened or educated enough to grasp that history renders her ilk to the trash bin of ambitious stupidities.

Wait. I digress.

I bring this up because last week, Gracey Van Der Mark led the way as Huntington Beach sought to accomplish something equal parts remarkable for its stupidity, jarring for its ignorance, offensive for its intent and embarrassing in the manner of a very loud fart in a monastery.

Or, to be more blunt: This was her brainchild …

It’s a $7,000 plaque, one designated to soon be mounted outside Huntington Beach’s Central Library to celebrate the institution’s 50 years of serving residents. And, to be clear, the library is a fantastic spot that has devoted itself toward helping the population explore a love for reading and music, research myriad topics, learn computers and typing, register to vote. Really, it’s an unassailable, non-political facility that is nothing short of treasured by the residents of Huntington Beach. As a journalist, I can say with 100-percent certainty: The library (and librarians) are sacred.

And yet …

If you look closely, you’ll notice an odd little touch to the plaque. Beneath HUNTINGTON BEACH CENTRAL LIBRARY is, well, this …

Yes, MAGA!

The plaque’s ode to Donald Trump was Gracey Van Der Mark’s idea. It was then unanimously approved by the six bowling pins on the Huntington Beach Community and Library Services Commission—all of whom were appointed by, according to Matt Szabo of the Daily Pilot, “a member of the all-conservative Huntington Beach City Council.” And even though the community seems very much against this preposterous political stunt (Szabo attended the meeting—and folks lined up to express their opposition), well … fuck ‘em and let ‘em eat cake. This is a MAGA world and Huntington Beach is run by MAGA loyalists and … and … and …

Wait.

Here’s the thing.

The important thing.

What folks like Gracey Van Der Mark never seem to get (like never, ever, ever seem to get) is that while they’re screaming MAGA! and rocking red hats and kneeling before Donald Trump and drumming up library plaque culture wars, the 47th president sees them as fools. As idiots. As handy (and disposable) tools who he would never invite for dinner. He uses people as chess pieces, accumulates wealth and power, then (see: Giuliani, Rudy or Pence, Michael) spits them out like discarded fat off the bone.

And this plaque, with the MAGA acronym—it’s not even clever. Or in the proximity of clever. Which is sorta delightful, because I 100-percent guarantee you Gracey Van Der Mark thinks otherwise. Within the depths of her skull, it’s a hoot! Haha, hehe! Shoving it to the libs and making Daddy Trump proud! But … the thing is just fucking dumb. And as sharp as melted butter. And embarrassing in the worst type of way. Gracey Van Der Mark is the person who exits the bathroom simultaneously rocking her new gold necklace and a long strip of toilet paper dangling from the rear of her mom jeans. People are laughing at her, but she can’t understand why. So she figures they’re laughing with her.

They’re not.

Hell, let’s talk a bit more about Gracey. According to her (typo-filled) website biography, Gracey’s father is an Ecuadorian immigrant, her mother is from Mexico. There is no way, in 2025, either is allowed into the United States—circumstances be damned. No shot¹. I wrote an entire book about Trump’s ruining of a once-prosperous football league, and what most dazzled me was his raw indifference to those struggling, those in need of help, those looking to be lifted up. Would this irony be lost on Gracey? Of course.

Gracey says her parents “always taught [me] to love and respect our country.” Yet just a few days ago, Donald Trump Tweeted this …

I wonder, sincerely, what Gracey’s mother and father would have said about a sitting president insisting if he tries to “save” his country he can do whatever he pleases. Come to think of it, I wonder what Gracey’s mother and father would have said about a sitting president who mocks POWs as losers, lies about being a hero on Sept. 11, brags about grabbing women by the pussies, mocks those among us who are disabled, overweight, unattractive.

But, sadly, none of that matters. People like Gracey Van Der Mark are in a cult. Not a cult a la Jonestown or Waco, but one where, for the first time in their meaningless lives, they feel valued and heard. They can be cruel and find company. They can ban books and have others light the fire. They can damn vaccine masks and re-Tweet conspiracy theories and bellow “America first!” beneath a Made-in-China red baseball cap.

And they can say, “Fuck the community—we’re bringing politics to a local library’s anniversary.”

Not because they’re wise.

Not because they’re civic minded.

Not because they care.

No. They can do so because they’re historically dumb people, convinced they’re smart.

They’re the worst among us.

And oftentimes the most damaging.

1. Literally, she writes: “My mother immigrated here from a poverty stricken town in Mexico where the huts they called home were made of rusty corrugated metal and you were lucky if you had a door to protect you or if you found a section under the rusty roof where water didn’t pour through on rainy days.” Gracey, imagine if your mother applied for asylum right now. Just imagine.