Back in November of 2016, a thousand sad years ago, I wrote that the American people, or half of them anyway, had crashed a fuel-loaded jetliner into their own country, just as surely as terrorists had done on 9/11. The damage from that latter attack has scarred the nation ever since, and led as well to misguided actions of blind vengeance that scarred nations around the world, especially in the Middle East, along with a progressive deterioration of American values and the standing of the United States in the world community.
The point is, these blatant acts of destruction don't begin and end on the day of their occurrence. They only begin there. For the past two-plus years, America has suffered the consequences resulting from the morally blind, the stubbornly deaf, the lamentably thoughtless voters who elected a timebomb to the highest office in the nation. It doesn't end in November 2016. There is no 'getting over it and moving on' as so many Trump supporters liked to advise. No, the disaster foreseen by the prudent, the sane, must unfold, the cancer, having been allowed to invade and spread, must run its course. The chance for early intervention long ago passed by. Thereafter, the die was cast.
How now might the cancer be removed without killing the victim? In some sense, we have now no choice as a nation but to die, and to hope for resurrection. An ugly period lies before us. The terminally recalcitrant will not simply have a 'change of heart'. No, they will go down with the ship, and call it courage and patriotism. And they will continue their rebellion from the secreting shade of tangled forests and crumbling structures and putrid alleys, in the shadows of shadows cast two eternal years ago.
The struggle, once thought inconceivable, once thought needless, has only just begun.
The point is, these blatant acts of destruction don't begin and end on the day of their occurrence. They only begin there. For the past two-plus years, America has suffered the consequences resulting from the morally blind, the stubbornly deaf, the lamentably thoughtless voters who elected a timebomb to the highest office in the nation. It doesn't end in November 2016. There is no 'getting over it and moving on' as so many Trump supporters liked to advise. No, the disaster foreseen by the prudent, the sane, must unfold, the cancer, having been allowed to invade and spread, must run its course. The chance for early intervention long ago passed by. Thereafter, the die was cast.
How now might the cancer be removed without killing the victim? In some sense, we have now no choice as a nation but to die, and to hope for resurrection. An ugly period lies before us. The terminally recalcitrant will not simply have a 'change of heart'. No, they will go down with the ship, and call it courage and patriotism. And they will continue their rebellion from the secreting shade of tangled forests and crumbling structures and putrid alleys, in the shadows of shadows cast two eternal years ago.
The struggle, once thought inconceivable, once thought needless, has only just begun.
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