At first I thought I was coming down with a bug. My whole head felt hot, like I was running a fever. The air leaving my nostrils was hot as well. My face would feel prickly and my neck was tight and sore. Surely I’m coming down with some sort of strange bug. This would happen at work in the mornings as I’m reading news articles about the election. “Trump said this…Clinton said that…”, I would read as my face felt like I’d been in the sun too long. A strange ache in my stomach would form and I’d close the page I was on as I couldn’t concentrate on what I’d begun reading because of the icky feeling that began to come over me. But by the time I’d leave work the feeling would go away. Then the next morning I’d hit up Huffington Post or read the comments section on some article on MSN.Com and that strange bug would start to act up. Do I have the Zika virus? Did I catch something from that weird delivery driver that kept wheezing with the bloodshot eyes? What the hell is wrong with me?
What’s wrong with me is an overwhelming sense of dread knowing that the world will be collapsing into itself very soon thanks to the dumbing down of the society I currently reside in. Confederate flags, building walls, police murdering unarmed men and women, cyber bullying, racism alive and well in the land of the free, the great military complex, the continuing American oligarchy, an ignorant billionaire buffoon possibly sneaking into the White House and the bitter, anti-intellectuals willing to vote him in because he’s a “straight shooter” and “not a politician”.
Yeah, that pretty much covers the main reasons for my existential dread.
You know, I’m not even making the argument of “Why won’t you vote for her?” I’m saying “Why in the f**k would you vote for him?” Grudge voting isn’t the answer here. Give your vote to the stoned Libertarian, or don’t vote at all. I’d respect either of those decisions. But when someone is telling me that they’ve voting for the “businessman” because he’s an outsider and he’s gonna “build a wall” I have to wonder what happened in their life that they’ve gotten to this point. And these just aren’t the trolls in the comment sections of news sites or the mouth breathers you see wearing ‘All Lives Matter’ t-shirts outside of peaceful police protests. These are people I know. These are people I care for and love. Friends, family, and people I’ve known for years at work that I’ve gotten along wonderfully with. They’ve all suddenly turned a corner to where they can’t see that voting for the five time bankruptcy-filing businessman might not be a good idea for us regular folks. They somehow can’t see that he may not have the working class folks best interests in mind. Why would you hand the keys to the kingdom over to a guy that says the things this guy says? It’s like a brand new political party has been created here in the US. It’s the “I Don’t Give A Shit” party. Well you know what? I do give a shit. So if you’re voting for this guy, then f**k you.
I love you, but f**k you.
So, now I’ve got to prepare in case of the unfortunate event this clown actually weasels his way into the Oval Office. We need lots of canned goods, shovels to dig the great northern tunnel, and as much bottled water as we can fit into the underground bunker. We know enough first aid to get by, and the generators should give us enough electricity to last a few months. We’ve got all the seasons of The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and Diff’rent Strokes, as well as a portable turntable with a selection of “island records”, including Tangerine Dream’s Rubycon, Steve Reich’s Music For 18 Musicians, John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme, and Weird Al’s Dare to Be Stupid. There’s an impressive collection of literature down in the bunker as well, including works by Henry Miller, William Faulkner, Ray Bradbury, and Dr. Spock. Graphic novels, back issues of Pizza Monthly and Surviving The Apocalypse in the New Millennium, and the last 30 years worth of Reader’s Digest in case I think I need some moderate racism in my life. The kids have plenty of board games and VHS copies of Disney movies we can burn in case we run out of heat.
Hopefully I don’t need all of this. Hopefully this is all just a bad dream. Maybe I’m dreaming right now. When I wake up we can all have a good laugh over all of this. Maybe have a cup of coffee, eat some danish, and talk about how ridiculous it would be if that spoiled, rich bully with orange skin actually did get into the White House. Surely that wouldn’t really happen. It was just a weird and terrible dream.
That’s all it was. Right?