Nearly every morning, while the kettle boils (and I wait for the shooting pains in my back to ease up), a thought rolls through my mind:
‘Is he still alive? Will today be the day?’
Of course, you know who I’m talking about without mentioning King Mango’s name.
Folks, let the record show, I don’t think that about anybody!
I’ve never thought that (so consistently), about anyone!
Not even the walnut brained, phone tapping, truck driving moron who nearly wiped me out while we were driving over a bridge recently.
But that guy? Yeah, nearly every morning since he was elected.
Frankly, I’m a bit worried.
The Kid Who Believed in the Good Guys
I grew up thinking the world had rules, that my heroes were honest, fought for the underdog and villains got their comeuppance.
Truth! Justice and the American Way!
I wasn’t an American, but I bought into their horseshit, hook, line and sinker.
I read comics, books, watched movies, played their songs and sure, I got it, the good guys weren’t completely perfect, but they were good. They could be counted on to do the right thing. To my feeble mind, that was the American Way!
Then something changed.
The World Shifted
We were a bit alarmed to discover our biggest, bestest, gum chewing, loud, Coke guzzling, heavily armed buddy, who was always on hand to keep us safe from the bullies of the world, had some extremely serious personality flaws.
Turns out America was greedy, selfish and, surprisingly, cruel.
Telling us lies, then doubling down on them and instead of defeating baddies, Yankee Doodle was rewarding them with power or $. Worse, he was trying to screw us over too!
Of course, Uncle Sam did his best to hide the worst of his faults; as you do.
I mean, nobody but a lunatic, or someone with a personality/social disorder, would post anything like this… even if it was true:
Unless you had the sort of barefaced audacity to just put it out there and cash in on it, like this little Aussie legend:
Anyway, talking of grifting wankers…
Then came… Him
So many people cheered his lies. His punching down. His hatred of women. His racism. His ‘actual’ crimes. His sheer front. His total disconnection with reality. His inability to think of anyone but himself, etc. etc.
I thought, ‘They must enjoy this?! Why?!’
Because, (and I can’t recall who said it first) I don’t think you-know-who has ever spent a night comforting his kids when they were crook, changed a nappy, played with the family dog (had a pet?), cleaned a toilet, enjoyed anytime alone in the natural world and been in awe of what he’s seen or cooked a simple meal for his family.
I’m also pretty sure he’s never cried at an injustice (done to someone other than himself) or done something worthy for anybody without telling another soul. I don’t think he’s ever experienced what being a human truly is all about (which is quite pathetic really).
So, how could they, literally, worship someone this hopeless?
And, it is worship:
Christians Voting for a ‘Flawed Vessel’
The bit that makes my coffee go cold each day is how Christians, actual Godly people, can look at him and earnestly say:
“He’s God’s Chosen One!”
Really?!
I’ve tried to get my head around it and I think it boils down to, single-issue voting (abortion, guns, influence, control or whatever floats your particular soul boat).
Or, maybe he promised them more power and a lot more money (defo leaning heavily towards this one… it’s always been thus. Look at who the churches have traditionally sided with throughout history).
Because it certainly ain’t about him being a great Christian example!
They’ve actually told me, to my face, ‘God uses flawed people’!
Like I’m supposed to slap my head and exclaim, “Oh, of course! How remiss of me! Okey dokey then, feel free to keep messaging the planet like a snarky fourteen-year-old and casually shoot more civilians in the street, because clearly, this is what makes Jesus happy.”
Flawed?! It’s like saying the Titanic has a few issues with rising damp!
Boy, that whining narcissist is about as flawed as you can get (seriously, who publicly admits to fantasising about tongue kissing their own daughter or enjoys molesting little girls, for Pete’s sake?!)
And, more to the point, how can your Christian conscience be at peace with what he is and has done?! And if it is, DO NOT ask me to visit your church or talk to me about my, or your, values and character.
Why It Hits So Hard
Because, trapped in this fifty-nine-year-old body is the kid who still thinks Truth Matters, Fairness Counts and Good Character is to be admired and aimed for.
It’s hard-wired into me and, well, hopefully, the majority of us. (There’s always exceptions, and they should be vetted to keep them away from public office.)
I see it when my grandsons pretend to be their fave superheroes, protecting their little cousins, saving the world, bravely fighting giants and monsters, even when they’re really scared themselves. (Note: I make a great, scary, giant/monster!)
Kids know monsters exist, what they have to discover is they can be defeated (hopefully without maiming good ol’ Grandad in the process), and, eventually, they’ll learn they have their own internal monster, and that it must be fought to keep it from taking them over.
Every. Single. Day.
Tough lesson.
Meanwhile, as we all deal with our own personal monsters, every morning I wake up to a world that merely shrugs off another outrageous lie, horrific policy, criminal accusation or war crime from a monster who has ripped it’s mask off and is gleefully running rough shod over decency, civility and integrity (and has access to the nuclear codes FFS!)
Honestly, I’m not angry, frustrated yes, but mostly what I am is, pretty disappointed.
Alright Smart Arse, What’s the Answer?
Look, we humans have always been a mix of generosity and selfishness, brilliance and stupidity, curiosity and ignorance or seriousness and ridiculous, etc.
Also, we’re capable of amazing kindness and mouth dropping cruelty.
I’m capable of simply thinking about some of those things before I’ve scoffed down my Vegemite on toast for breakfast, but wouldn’t dream of acting on any of the bad stuff.
So, what can I do about? (The human flaws that is, not the Vegemite thing… although I could probably start eating a bit slower?)
Bring It Back Home
OK, what I can’t do is fix global politics (hell, it was hard enough trying to wrangle my own daughters), but I don’t have to join the Baddies either.
Instead, I’ll continue to tell the truth, honestly (but without being so blunt it makes people cry… um, I’m not going to make any promises here, it’s a work in progress, alright?)
I’ll keep treating people with respect and decency, no matter how hard it is at times.
I’ll forgive, and move on from, the people who have dodgy ethics, standards or principles, with a dropkick and a cheery, “I wish you well, but stay away from me and my family.”
Mostly, I’ll put in a solid effort to bring a bit of joy into folks lives and finally, do my best not to turn into this bloke:
As for ‘The American Way’? Well, as we say here in Oz, “Yeah, nah”.
Folks, if we’re going to see anything resembling the slogan of Truth and Justice in our daily lives, then it will be up to us, we mere, humble, ordinary mortals, earnestly trying to do the right thing, (once again in case you missed it):
Every. Single. Bloody. Day.
So…
From now on, each morning (while my toast burns), I’ll ask myself:
“How can I be one of the good guys today?” and go from there.
It’s what I like to call a Good Start, and a much better way of easing into my day without wondering if Mr. G. Reaper has dropped by to collect you know who.
Cheers,
Gb