It’s all a bit much, isn’t it? I mean, really.
The world feels like a kids birthday party at the moment but populated entirely by fucking lunatics. And they’ve eaten all the fairy bread. Everything feels uncertain and everything is contested. It feels as if there is no safe haven, that every habitat of humanity, from religion to sexuality, from government to gender is under attack and is falling apart around our ears.
America is always a great gauge of the general mood of the world. Reagan and Bush Sr. mirrored a repressive, materialistic world, scared and frightened by the threats of other nations, cultures and the unknown. Clinton reflected a general optimism and a shedding of old ideals. George Dubya heralded in 9/11 and tried to create a world much like his fathers.
With someone like Donald Trump seemingly heading for the White House, we may be in a worse state than ever.
You know what bothers me the most about Trump? It’s the fact that he’s already won. That I am sitting here writing about him at all, that he has gotten this far is a victory for all those ignorant and fearful folk out there who support him. I don’t hate them, I can’t, they have been preyed upon by a bigger, stronger alpha who abuses their concerns and fears for his own ends. He will leave them drowning in their own inadequacies if he alights to the Presidency and they will see how used they were. There is very little uglier in this world than those who would take advantage of another’s fallibility, who would use fear as a means of obtaining power. Trump represents the base aspirations of the spirit. He is all humanity can be if it is not vigilant.
No, he’s not a monster, not like Hitler or Kony or Pol Pot. That level of hatred can be compartmentalised as almost supernatural, as if we can dismiss such figures as pure evil, nothing to do with us; an aberration.
But Trump is very much human. He is reflective of us all.
His actions are those of ignorance and hatred, hubris and violence. He bullies and provokes, belittles and mocks, yet says nothing of any importance. He is ill conceived in every way, much like his hair. Nothing about him exudes grace or kindness, thought or consideration; human qualities. He is a child, in his soul, he is undeveloped. He is everything we raise our children not to be.
Someone devoid of humanity.
There is something almost alien about him, besides his appearance. A child of a privileged background, Trump has never had any occasion to actually live among the common man. He is a bastardisation of Superman, if Superman had crash landed in an ill fitting toupee warehouse and his primary power was being obnoxious. In his words and his actions, he cannot relate to human qualities, can only point out its fears and make increasingly bizarre and impossible promises about how he will confront them. In that, his powers are much like Superman’s; they are not real. He is a work of fiction.
Bad fiction, poorly written.
It is hard to not feel that we are doomed if Trump takes the White House. Not necessarily because of him, but because we, as humans allowed it. If a countries ultimate seat of power reflects the aspirations of its people, then we have allowed our standards to drop too low. We are now giving our power, our safety, our well being, financial, spiritual and otherwise to those who are so much less than what we are. The system has inverted. Humanity is standing on its head and wondering why the world doesn’t make sense anymore.
We have no one to blame but ourselves.