A Permanently Imperfect Union

I just hope we get to have another actual election so people can gave a chance to correct this mistake.

Oh. Okay.

It’s the fart-napping rapist who tried to literally break American democracy four years ago instead of the extremely-well prepared and qualified black lady, then? Well, this is America and if there’s one thing Americans are extremely good at, it’s making the wrongest decision at the wrongest possible time. So thank the universe we’re still consistent, eh?

In some small way it’s comforting, almost, that when given this opportunity to keep power out of the hands of people who are hell-bent on taking away our ability to choose who we give power to, this country did exactly the 180-degree opposite. That so many Holy Rolling, God fearing, Bible thumping Americans are in love with the guy who Jeff Epstein called a close personal friend on tape (which was news that broke shortly before the election), and those are the same people who think schools are giving kids gender confirmation surgeries and that’s what they have to “save our kids,” is so comically ironic, it’s like a rapist being elected after promising to protect women “whether they liked it or not.”

Super fucking hilarious, isn’t it?

How can anyone remain hopeful when they see how many millions of Americans voted for Trump? Maybe this time my hope will be finally extinguished. As cynical as I can be about Americans and our politics, I am somehow always able to maintain a sliver of hope. I genuinely blame Star Wars for that, but I’ll still be re-watching “Rogue One” and “The Empire Strikes Back” today, hoping the sparks of rebellion ignite in me.

Goddamn I’m a fucking nerd on top of an electoral loser this morning, aren’t I? You’re welcome, is what I’m trying to say.

I just hope we get to have another actual election so people can have a chance to correct their mistakes. Oh, whoops, sorry, I forgot that to white Americans, mistakes are like kids you make with your first family, and you don’t have to ever acknowledge them.

But…is it a mistake? Or is the country that was literally founded on the backs of slavery and genocide permanently doomed to make the same choices, over and over again? It stops being a “mistake” when you choose to deep throat the dildo for the twelfth time and you should not be curious about why your vocal cords hurt the next day, either.

How can any of us really be shocked by our unrepentant racism and misogyny? It’s literally baked-into the religious extremism they want to bend our wills and force on everyone. It’s the “good ol’ days” they pine for.

Are we, despite what the angels of our better natures tell us to the contrary, a permanently imperfect union?

This bleary-eyed, exhausted clown has no answers for any of that. None that I think are worth ruminating on for too long, anyway. It just feels like last night validated the belief that we are forever broken, imperfect for all eternity, because half of us just want to sweep all the pain and trauma of growing up poor, queer, a woman, or a person of color in this country forces you to endure, since its inception under the rug.

In other words, everything progressives want to change about America is a feature, not a bug.

I know that I’m supposed to be fire-hosing you with hope right now. I’m supposed to be telling you all that it can and will get better…but…can it? Will it? I truly hope so.Bbecause once I pick myself up off the mat we’re all laying down flat on right now, I intend to fight my country’s hard-right takeover harder, hopefully smarter, and a little differently than I did the first time. I didn’t want to fight that fuckstick and the cadre of enabling, obsequious mewling fucksticks that will slither their way back into the White House, but sometimes you don’t choose the fight; the fight chooses you.

While the Supreme Court still lets us have a First Amendment, it’s one of the only weapons we have, and I’ll use it. You should, too, when you’re ready. Hopefully it’ll be worth the effort, and hopefully some of you will send me money for my prison commissary fund when they outlaw making fun of rapey authoritarians, because that’s what your ol’ Pal Jambo gonna do, just as soon as the end titles roll on “Empire.”

 

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