Speechless in Schenectady

Howling on the inside

Photo by Darren Welsh on Unsplash

Since the election, I have found myself unable adequately to express my thoughts and feelings. I haven’t been able to write much, and I have avoided socializing. I simply can’t rally this time.

I have insulated myself from the news as much as possible in this day and age of relentless media. Things slip through when I’m looking at FB or catch a new headline on my phone. I know about the attack on Bourbon Street. I know about the fires in L.A. I know a cease-fire deal has been reached in the Middle East. I know we are handing over our nation to a psychopathic narcissist on Monday. My grief is nearly debilitating, and my fear is nearly paralyzing. The last time he was inaugurated, I kept waiting for the punchline. It never came. I know better this time. Monday is coming, and we will all be so foolishly proud of our ability to participate in a peaceful transfer of power. But there should not be a single lover of Democracy showing up at Monday’s event. We should be drawing lines now. Hard and immovable lines. We should be speaking truth to power. We should be refusing to hand over all that we have built.

I think the worst is yet to come. Suspension of the Constitution? Martial Law? Why not, if that gets you what you want? There are no rules and no checks and balances that will stand in the way of this demagogue and his sycophants. I have never been pollyannish, but now I am a downright death knell. If you want to tell me it’s all going to be okay, or we’ll get through this, I want to tell you, you’re kidding yourself! Look around! None of us on the left have the tools for what lies ahead. But instead of pissing on your cornflakes, I’m keeping it to myself.

And howling on the inside.