I think I have said before that I am a political junkie. Let’s consider this term before we wade into the biased cynicism of the premise. A “political junkie,” is really just another drug addict, consumed by the words that other people say, and getting high from whichever way our ideologies lead us. I am a ‘liberal,’ or at least this is what the far right would call me, although most of my contempt, the highest degree of disgust I find for other people exists within my own tribe. Liberals are a bunch of pussies. Liberals are fucking stupid.
Now don’t get me wrong: I condemn the right even more, a small-minded batch of cretins seeking to alter reality into whichever slim prejudice consumes their momentary view of the world. But the left, supposedly my brethren, have become the same sort of Nazi they presume the right stomps around being. They are no different, regardless of ideology. The far left are a group of fascists blaming everyone else for whatever it is about the world they find offensive.
Don’t get me wrong: the modern right is far more “snowflake” than the pussy-assed left ever was, reacting to base perceptions of what their opposition might be saying and getting offended over everything, misunderstanding everything. The right are the post hippie assholes of say 1973, joining aimless cults of opposition with suicidal ambition, hovering around the extremes, a gun-play fantasy that erupted in the 1990s in Ruby Ridge and Waco and Oklahoma City, conspiratorial perceptions of reality that undermine what the actual truth might be, damning the whole world beneath an expansive perception–secret societies and other beings that could no longer possibly exist in the crazed age of the internet. And then they get even more defensive, not truly understanding their base and increasingly intricate plots, and try to turn it around and laugh at the left-wing douchebags, mocking their supposedly hurt feelings.
The left, on the other hand–well the left until 2016–they had subtly won more or less everything, demeaning the so-called right, imposing their smug perceptions of reality on those fragmented people who found everything going on in the world offensive. Of course there is no valid reason everything was so horrible to such folks (one might consider racism or outright fascistic fanaticism, but even this is a vast minority of the creeps that were as angry as the rest, a parallel to the far left waiting for anything and everything to piss them off so they could protest and denounce it.) All it was was a cheap sideshow of partisan issues, whichever social organization promising a new reality the one that only a tiny handful obsequiously forwarded their money to, most of them well-to-do enough to ignore whichever way the election might turn.
I voted for Obama, sure, but that does not mean that I actually believed in him. It was, to me (and, I suspect, to the bulk of others who nominally supported him), the ‘lesser of two evils,’ a bleak statement declaring that no one set to lead is worthwhile, and there can only be varying degrees of decline within our broken society. Donald Trump succeeded in exactly the same way, the angry opposition defeating the burned out other side, demanding a restoration of legal hatred and outright contempt for those you disagree with.
Donald Trump publicly restored greed as an innate American characteristic, a schoolyard bully sort of idea that presumes you deserve whatever it is that you want. This is far from the worst thing our President has done to society. For all of his antics, for all of the silly, mostly ignorant, nonsensical and outright ridiculous ideas the man has had and has failed to implement (and yet for which cult-like supporters claim he is “making America great again,” regardless of the fact that nothing has happened and none of them have any idea what they are talking about), Donald Trump nevertheless certainly knows how to lie convincingly to his followers. This is a gift all politicians, from every side in any social history, are envious of. Look at how a perpetual liar has convinced his followers that he is the only voice of truth. Look at how he has countered bleak and unequivocal facts and turned them into lies because whatever the truth is it might make the deity look bad. I do not write these words individually to condemn the worthlessness of every promise Donald Trump has ever made (that is too easy and you could check that out in seventeen words on Twitter). No, what I am hoping to draw attention to is the intentional divergence from reality that all current politicians hope to perform, regardless of whether they are aware of it or not. Donald Trump . . . Donald Trump does not do all of this on purpose. When he was promoted as ‘a man of the people’ this had nothing to do with his silver spoon nor the fact that he never truly had to work hard to achieve anything. It has nothing to do with his bland stupidity or his social blindness, and there can be no truthful allegations declaring he is prejudiced against any one social group when clearly the man hates everyone. No, Donald Trump is a man of the people because he does not have the patience to consider a different idea from his own, to hear anything counter to his rushed thoughts on how the world is supposed to be. He does not bother thinking about who or what or why other people may suffer. He is a businessman, the sort of person who cares about nothing other than the bottom line.
Yes, I find Donald Trump to be a disgrace, but do not pigeonhole me into some partisan rant about ‘libtard’ or ‘demoncrat’ or whatever stupid fucking cheap slur people might devise to dismiss another from their limited human reality. I find all of it appalling, and I have for a very long time. I was in college at the dawn of the Clinton years, a bland time of plenty when ideologues thought that since there were no wars we might as well fight over morality. I listened to and watched most of my friends protesting the new Republican majority in Congress, and I followed the bleak-eyed hatred of the silenced-on-campus right blaming Bill Clinton for their getting a B in some liberal professor’s history class. But all of this ridiculous pettiness has become transformed in this far more evolved internet age into chants of smug riot, of insidious, self-deprecating hatred, where even whatever extreme we find most offensive becomes the most important thing we will ever have to say.
All political discourse in the United States has become bullshit, the followers of one or the other side more like college football fanatics, painting their faces in the mascot’s colors and booing the other team should they score a touchdown. The truth of how the government is run, of how civilization interacts with each other, can really be reduced to such meaningless rooting interest fandom. Nothing else is actually true. No one is honest or sincere. All of those radical opinions you dedicated yourselves to once upon a time, back when you convinced yourselves that the world was worth saving, are just the same babbling cesspool those college kids you once thought yourself to be–‘Imma gonna change the world!–‘ all of it meaningless in the adulthood where we come to realize that everyone has a different agenda and that even those who otherwise agree with you have no interest in the science-fictional future you wish to impose upon everyone not yourself. And now we older folks condemn the young, those fools resembling us in our banished enthusiasm, condemning their nonsense not because we necessarily don’t agree with their aims, but only because we recognize too much of our own failures and get angry seeing another generation repeating the same mistakes.
This will be my last piece from the series of untitled bleakness I have undertaken this week, a new grip on reality that might actually lessen my readership at the moment when, under business considerations, I have intentionally reduced my audience (India, up until last week, was far and away my largest readership. Having decided to no longer pay google to spread my link on Hindu news sites, that nation, other than I guess the people who were actually fans, has disappeared.) If nothing else the demise of my audience has taught me something about who my true and readers are, giving me a better idea of who it is I am writing for. You are the few hundred remaining folks I wish to speak to. I realize that once the biography and the novel come out there will probably be a boost in readership, but those will be the same tired assholes from, say, Thailand, who awarded me with a few dollars a week and yet probably never got through any of these articles. But Recording Editorial History, while ultimately to me a psychological venting and lingual calisthenics, giving me the work out necessary to engage with the numerous other projects that consume my mind when not laughing at the news, this site is really a cry in the dark, a spent reason for living that might appeal to someone or even nobody, hearing the silent squawk of misery that generally overwhelms my otherwise happy-go-lucky, cheerfully pessimistic vision of the world.