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Friday, November 11, 2016

Ain't No Shame In It

I have taken my title from Will Smith's remake of "Just The Two Of Us." This particular version has Will Smith encouraging his oldest son Tre, and giving him advice. This song gets me every time.

But that's not why we are here. The full quote is, "And you can cry/Ain't no shame in it."

Why are we mocking people upset about the election? I'm upset about the election. I had no overly fond preference for either one, yet even so...

Have you ever poured your heart into something, with everything you are, and it fails? It's tough. That doesn't even cover it. But that's what people are feeling, at least part of it. You could say that people shouldn't put so much of themselves into a finite thing, but for one, that's easy for some of you to say, and we forget in our cynicism that politics is actually important.

I will thank God if the new president is not an unmitigated disaster. I also won't be either surprised or sad if he resigns in disgrace. For my part, I was bound to be despondent either way.

We get it: sensitive, sheltered liberals can't handle reality. (I feel like a jerk, just typing that last thing.) Before you gloat too much, realize that you may have voted for a sociopath and a fascist. I hope I am exaggerating, but I don't assume I am. I'm glad you're confident in better things; when my Euro-Style Dictator Alarm goes off, I don't ignore it. Too bad so many this season did. If we get, "Oafish moron dependent on more capable staff" we'll be fortunate.

Cry it out, friends. I'm right there with you.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Waiting For A Star To Fall

I heard this 80's tune last night. I still like it, if you will forgive me, but it does go on about a minute too long. The eighties, when any lyrical absurdity is forgivable, as long as you have a synthesizer. Synth covers a multitude of sins.

But the thing I love about the '80s that no one gets anymore is, even the most ridiculous songs had a sheen, a chorus, something to say, "You'll tell everyone you hate this song, but you are lying."

So here you go. It's OK, you don't have to thank me. [We could get the Schmitz family to do an '80s album, and call it, "Schmitz Schmaltz"! Genius!--ed.] Oh, dear.

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Post-Election Sadness

I'm sad today, because I was Never Trump, and I really believed in it. I still do. Things which never should have taken place are now normalized; winning makes for short memories. I want nothing to do with religious bigotry, ethnic stereotyping, draconian immigration policies, the mainstreaming of sexual violence, and so forth, and so on.

And the thing is, because the Left used the same words, told the same story--and on account of their arrogance and hypocrisy were utterly eviscerated--some people think we don't need to talk about these things, that they are fictions. Whether the people who hold this view are swept up in a populist fervor, or they are just sick of hearing it from what they regard as the usual suspects, I feel compelled to say that they are not fictions or lies.

I'm sad because this outrage of a campaign has been vindicated. I'm outraged that none of this scandal has been called to account, and won't be, by any human, as far as I can tell. It might be awhile before I settle down about it. I want to feel relief; I want to hope it won't be all bad. I want to think that contraceptive mandates and pro-abortion judges and religious persecution are now a dead letter. But come on, my friends: if I couldn't vote for the man in the face of all that, either I am completely irrational, or there is real doubt about what will happen. It's either true or false that Donald Trump is an erratic, lying, bigoted, incurious con-man. If true, 300-plus electoral votes doesn't make it false. If false...well, I do believe in miracles.

Don't expect me to be happy. Don't expect me to distrust everything I saw and heard. I'm wondering why no one feels the way I do. I'll readily grant the putative goodness of scads of Trump supporters, but I do not grant it to the man before me. Why would I? Why do you?

The Elephant In The Room

I would like to think I am an elitist in the best sense: I am highly educated, sensitive to the concerns of the marginalized, deeply suspicious of cheerleading for ideologies at the expense of individuals, families, communities, and nations. I value decorum, respect, and constructive debate. I'm a secret peacenik and believer in international institutions. I have never felt so alienated from the Republican Party as I do today.

I didn't vote for Hillary Clinton. If you can't get me, you can't win.

The reason is abortion. Democrats are extremists on abortion. It's not the only reason you lost, or maybe it is. But it's wrong, and now it's impractical to defend it for political reasons. This is free advice: give it up. Let your pro-life members out of the shadows to speak the truth. Maybe even nominate a defender of life, from conception to natural death! Just a thought.

Tuesday, November 08, 2016

You Can't Blame Me

I abstained from the presidential vote. Missouri leans Republican, mind you, for president. If indeed Mr. Trump wins here by some 15 points, it indicates to me that Missouri has lost its bellwether status, and frankly, that the voters here have lost their minds. Which is not to say that I welcome a Clinton victory here, or in the nation as a whole. It is absolutely to say that for all their faults real and imagined, we are unworthy of George W. Bush, his father George Bush, John McCain, Mitt Romney,  Ronald Reagan,  Dwight Eisenhower, and all the rest up to this point. We have failed them. We have failed our children. We have failed our fellow citizens, and the world.

No, I don't think it's overstated.

One further thing: there are those who would dismiss these words as sentiment or virtue signaling, as some are calling it. My only reply is that it is in fact those who have deadened themselves to virtue who cannot recognize its opposite. I will not go on as though the game is the same, nor will I man the barricades for someone who is hardly fit to enter my home, much less be the president of my country.

With that, we turn to implore God's mercy. In any case, we'll need a lot of it.