Polluted

It affects everything—knowing that Trump will be POTUS again. When I’m driving to the grocery store or to see family, or sitting on the couch reading a book, that unsettling thought will be close at hand.

The reality that such a thoughtless, calculating, cold-hearted, hapless oaf will once again be the visible figurehead for America looms over every aspect of my life.

We can’t ignore the guy, despite what I said, mostly jokingly, in an earlier post. We can try to carry on as if his presence doesn’t matter, but that won’t work, because his presence exposes a whole ugly, forceful movement toward coarseness and paranoia and isolationism and rampant self-interest.

Even if we personally revile him, don’t respect him, his presence still makes one think differently about who we are collectively, and what we value. His presence makes it easier to give up on hope and optimism.

He is a black hole from which no light escapes. He is darkness personified.

WTFH, America?