A Million Miles From Camelot

I figured out what it was. This inability to build a lucid narrative on Trump; an affliction I’ve been toting around since November of last year when reality TV met up with the real thing. It’s because to talk about the man would simply lead me down a rabbit hole whose confined space would force me to rant instead of reason. I would equivocate rather than elucidate. In other words, I would be screaming textually rather than arguing sensibly.

And then this past weekend happened. I was busy as all get out, but who can run away from that kind of news? I mean, really. There’s no place to run and hide when something like Charlottesville happens.  And when it happens inside of an already turbulent time, it kind of feels like Mephistopheles scored the deed to our backyard.

Horrible events such as this leave you with a dull ache- full of hopelessness and dread, for what might come next. Because the worst days always seem to have a sequel just waiting to be unleashed, especially nowadays. To be a true believer in this day and age is akin to being accused of witchcraft in Salem back in the day. You’re a freakish misfit to the villagers. And I guess that’s where I came to understand why it is that I have been silent for so long on Trump.

Out of disbelief? Partly. Out of dread for what comes next? Mostly. Out of fear that I wouldn’t be able to stitch the right nouns to the proper verbs and make it cohesive enough sounding without coming off as a fraternal member of the Young Turks? Definitely.

Until now. Until Charlottesville. And I really hate the fucking timing of this post, because it means that Saturday happened. It’s like a meteor crashed down on my clueless skull and opened me up to the truth of the matter, and how to express it.

I don’t believe in blaming others unless they are directly responsible, which is another reason why I couldn’t bring myself to write on Trump for the last ten months. Because I most certainly wasn’t blaming him for all those votes he got. And I wasn’t even blaming all the people who thought he was the best idea this country had left, even if they were woefully wrong on that point.

No, I blamed the people such as myself. The ones who voted for Hilary and thought that was all it was going to take, and all the others who didn’t think she needed their vote to win by a slam dunk. I was one of those people who made fun of a Trump presidency, over and over and over again. Until November happened, and all the humor of such a thing became an Orwellian story line come to life.

And now, none of it is funny or irreverent. Now, it’s just a series of piss poor comedic skits with no punch lines. Now it’s just a sad and lonely and interminably long truth.

I wish I had some pretty words to dole out, on how we all have to come together and how peace and unity is the only way. But right now, it feels as if that “I Have A Dream” speech by Martin Luther King happened inside another world. Right now, it feels as if there is more of Charlotteville where Saturday came from. Because we have a President who never met a middle ground he didn’t blow to smithereens. And now, he has the guns to do just that, in more ways than the horrible one.

I can’t blame Trump for what James Alex Fields did in Charlottesville. Because to do so would be to buy in to the trade off of accountability that has allowed us to arrive at this mess in time. Fields made the decision to kill and injure when he plowed his car into a group of people. Just as those Nazi’s of another mother country and the white nationalists with their Tiki torches made the decision to be moral degenerates long before Trump came into office.

My problem with Trump has nothing to do with the actions of these disenfranchised losers. I don’t blame Trump for their seething hatred and bitter ignorance. Trump didn’t make these people who they are.

My problem with Trump is that he accepted it.

29 thoughts on “A Million Miles From Camelot

  1. It is horrible. I’m still at a loss for words. PS. I hope you don’t associate me with these people bc of my gravatar. I am not changing it. I am so embarrassed they had to use it. SMH.

    • What . . . because Michigan went Trump’s way? Lol . . no, I don’t place any blame on your doorstep for that. I have a friend who lives in Lansing, and he is one cool cat who would never and no how have anything to do with Trump. It’s like that.
      Ironically, on this point, this Blackhawks fan is in agreement with you . . . a (gasp!) Wings fan!. 🙂

  2. Haha. I meant the signs that were used with a modified logo. I’m laughing that a Blackhawks fan agrees…Hell (if it exists) must be dropping temps below freesing. I stiil wish yall would join the East…Original Six all the way.

    • Bwahahaha!

      Hey, isn’t it some ironic shit that hockey fans can be civil on such important real world matters? What the hell is happening to this world? Original Six baby! Hawks, Wings, Rangers, Habs, Leafs and Bruins. And that was done without Google! lol.

  3. The CEO of my highly conservative company resigned from the president’s manufacturer’s council this week – that’s not something that happened lightly. I have never witnessed my company draw a line in the sand like that before (I’ve been here almost 16 years)
    I have always been a purposefully non-political person, more so due to lack of savvy than lack of interest. I’m horrified and searching for something to do. What can we do?
    In my own little circle – I’m finding ways to spread anything but hatred. That sounds so flower child of me – but it’s all I have right now.

    • Nah Mama T, you seem like the true believer I was writing about. I don’t know much about your politics, other than the back and forth we shared via email last year. But you seem very much like me on the most important stuff. As per, fuck the party line, vote for the person you believe in.

      That’s a great question you pose. What can we do? Because it DOES seem hopeless, doesn’t it?

      And I apologize for the negative spin I applied to this here post, but I just sat down tonight and wrote it, and this is what happened. And when I read it back to myself, I didn’t believe it was as hopeless a thing as all that.

      What do we do Mama? We march on, the way Martin Luther King did. We prevail against the seemingly insurmountable odds by doing good things and believing in better days. And when the shitty days collapse down on top of us, we push back. Hard.

      And never apologize for being a flower child. Flowers make the world worth having, worth fighting for, worth believing in.

      Peace and flowers

  4. I wish I could cheer you and the rest of America up. It is impossible. I am constantly amazed at the actions of The President. A nation led by a Narcissist. Not a very rosy future.I think that is what has everyone in a funk. The government has failed to have our back which makes life very uncomfortable. Nice job, Pilgrim.

    • It’s NOT impossible, John. It’s just harder to reconcile the fact that we live in a dangerous world when the guy who is supposed to be our leader is only making things more dangerous. But it’s funny how all of that goes away inside a work a day world. Like, I’ll go into work this afternoon and it will be as if the rest of the world is on the outside looking in. And all the fears and all the drama and and the “What in the hell is gonna happen next?” goes away, because there’s shit to get done. An every day to be had.
      I never fear. Anything. I just wish my kids had a better world, that’s all.

  5. My Boy (the baby in the lake) went to the rally in Boston today. We had a long talk a few days ago about the state of things in this country — in the world — and how it’s increasingly important to showing up and speak out against the hate and inequality that happening because of that narcissistic POS.

    But, I hear ya. I haven’t felt up to writing much of anything since last year. Anxiety is a real buzz kill.

    Peace and French toast with a pint of Ben & Jerrys Urban Bourban for all of us!

    • I recently made banana bread french toast, and with every bite I was saying a great big “Fuck you” to Trump. Okay, I wasn’t really. But man . . he was a million miles away from my thoughts as I grubbed on that. Hmm . . . maybe I should eat banana bread french toast all the time until he’s gone! With a couple scoops of Urban Bourbon on top, of course. I can begin my diet in the fall of 2020. God willing. . . .

      Peace and french toast, and Urban Bourbon!

  6. You nailed it. I would guess that those who voted independent feel even worse. So freakin scary. What’s worse is Trump has opened the door to hate and made it this years fashion trend, hood and all.

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