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So for the past week I’ve been sitting shivah for democracy. It had a good long life, lasting for almost 250 years in America. Rest in Peace.
Sad. Shocked. Depressed. That’s me.
It’s been a tough week, and I’ve been trying all sorts of strategies, not in any conscious or systematic way, but hoping to find a way of honoring my old departed friend. Distraction occasionally works. Life goes on, and there are all sorts of things to keep me and my wandering mind busy. And, yes, things are better when I’m thinking of other things, whether important or trivial. After all, democracy may be lost, but my beloved Patriots did find a way to win a game the other day.
I’ve tried reassurance, but I find that it works only moderately well and for a short time. It’s kind of like taking a couple of Tylenol for the sequelae of a head-on car collision. It won’t be so bad, I tell myself. I repeat over and over again that Trump can’t really be as terrible as I think–at which point my rational self jumps to the forefront and tells me that yes, he can. I ask myself how much bad he can do in only four years. After all he’ll lose control of the House in the midterms and become a lame duck for the last two years—at which point my rational takes over again, reminding me that whatever the period is, it’s enough to do tremendously long-lasting damage.
And then there’s the part of me that’s shameful, but which I fear I must admit to. Although it goes against every belief and value I consciously espouse, somewhere deep in my dark side a voice tells me that maybe he won’t last out his term. Maybe some madman with decent aim will get carried away. Maybe all those McDonald’s burgers and fries along with a steady diet of steak and ketchup will clog those arteries and take him down. And although I am not rooting for a comeback of COVID or some dangerous equivalent, maybe he’ll avoid getting a vaccine and refuse to wear a mask one time too many. My rational and compassionate sides are appalled, they tell me that I should never ever be entertaining such thoughts—at which point other opposing elements in my brain ask me if I would have been disavowing negative thoughts about Hitler’s health had I been around then.
But then I move on to the post-mortem, the blame game. It seems to be part of human nature to need to assign blame when things go wrong. After the fact, it’s all too easy to know what we could not see in real time. Those stupid Democrats should never have nominated Biden in the first place. Or they should not have put Harris forward without a mini-runoff election. Maybe they simply picked the wrong candidate after all, emphasized the wrong issues, appealed to the wrong people. And so it goes.
But I see the blame game differently. I put the blame squarely on the shoulders of Homo Sapiens Americanus. How could an actual majority of the voting population in this nation be so blind, be so stupid? We’ve had this huckster, this con man, this felon in our midst for long enough that there’s no excuse for buying what he was selling. How is it possible that hundreds of thousands of working people voted for a man they believed understood them and their plight, a man who would help them. They voted for Trump, ever so foolishly believing their vote to be one of self-interest. They turned out for a man who never did an honest day of work in his life, a man who will use his position to do nothing more than to further enrich his own fortunes. How could people be fooled so easily? Donald Trump doesn’t give a damn about you! Shame on you. Shame on us.
Even if they were deluded about their self-interest, I find it hard to forgive those in the population who might have risen beyond self-interest and asked some questions about issues that went beyond their paycheck or pocket book. Is this man fit to serve, they might have asked. Is he a threat to our personal freedoms, to our safety and standing in the world. Is he absolutely the wrong man to be the leader of this, or any, country in the world. It shouldn’t have been a decision between Harris and Trump. It was Harris versus chaos, Harris vs vile incompetence and ego. Had it been Trump vs a Rubber Ducky, you should have been able to realize that Rubber Ducky was the clear choice.
I’d be happy (ecstatic is the better word), if I were Putin. I’d be sort of glad but extremely wary if I were Netanyahu or Kim Jung Un or Xi Jinping. And I’d be absolutely terrified if I were Zelenskyy. Me? I’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other, as they say. I will try to take pleasure in small joys now and when they come into my life. I’ll try to keep my weight down and my spirits up. And of course, I’ll try to stay hydrated, as my doctors tell me. Still, I try to empty that glass of liquids, but can’t quite. And when I look at it, I have an awful feeling that it’s half empty rather than half full.
I am in much the same place as the author of this piece. Should Biden have dropped out sooner? Perhaps. Should Harris–who I thought was a very strong campaigner–have not thought that abortion and democracy would weigh more heavily than immigration and the price of eggs? Again, maybe: but let’s be real. P.T. Barnum is said to have said that no one ever lost a dime underestimating the intelligence of the American people. If so, this election proved him correct. Who could listen to incoherent, inarticulate, ignorant, vulgar, and stupid Trump for 3 minutes and believe that he could “fix… Read more »