I awoke this morning to the soft, rhythmic sound that means somewhere, very close to my head, a cat is hacking up Friskies. After I handled that, I lay in the dark, staring up at…wait, you can’t really stare at things in the dark, can you? Screw it. I got my metaphor.
Yes, I’m still hacking up Friskies over the election outcome, and it’s not going to get better any time soon. This isn’t a “my team lost the playoffs” kind of depressed. It’s more of a “I wonder how many more of us will die in the end because of this” kind of depressed. It’s a depressed with legs.
I don’t mean to drama-queen it. When I personally die, it’s almost certain to be at home, face-down in a pool of something (though I make several trips a year between Boston Logan and London Heathrow, so there’s a chance that the last words I ever hear will be “Allahu Akbar!”). Still, I am as sure as I can be that the liberal, secular values of the West are at war (a real live shootin’ war!) with a dark, ugly, Medieval primitivism. And I cannot for the life of me see why actual secular liberals aren’t troubled by that.
As long as Islamists stayed “over there” some place, mainly killing each other, we were content to stay well away from “over there” and let them do it. I was as happy with that solution as anyone.
They were not content with the arrangement.
You can’t negotiate with people who have contempt for negotiation. There’s no wiggle room in “convert or die.” This one really is binary, folks. It’s black and white, and the fact George Bush says so haltingly, with a stupid accent doesn’t make it less true.
The Republican party has been dreadful recently. Just dreadful. Clearly, they are unable to keep their shit together in the absence of a credible opposition. And the Democratic party is no longer anything like credible opposition. Unfortunately, the electorate didn’t notice how far the Dems have driven down Crazy Street. The people were busy…I dunno…having lives or something.
So given a choice between a party that has clearly lost its core principles and the Other Guys, the people made a decision that might have been healthy and corrective in other times, but is dead scary in our present situation. I don’t blame them, I just…ummm…
…anybody want some warm, gently used Friskies?
I’ve spent time with wannabe revolutionaries, evangelical apocalyptics, milleniumialists and other raving visionaries. I know there sometimes comes a point when preparing for disaster becomes a longing for disaster. The sense of belonging to the larger community gets overwhelmed by a terrible need to have your worst predictions vindicated. That’s an awful place to be, and Weasel don’t live there. I want to die at home, face-down in a pool of something, and I’ll do my best to make it happen.
Hold a happy thought.
p.s. Cat is okay. I guess.