Well, well, well—the country stands on the brink
of a precipice, and I confess that I’m afraid to look over the rim. I don’t believe
that mid-term elections have mattered as much as today’s; at least not during
my lifetime. If Democrats don’t take back the House, the Kleptocrat gets two
more years to drive democracy into the dust, cheered on by Repugnants all up
and down the office-holding food chain.
And as though the actual elections weren’t
enough of a cliff-hanger, we’ve got Rethugs from the Oval Office on down to
state and local levels engaging in voter suppression and intimidation on a
scale that old Joe Stalin would admire. Closing polling stations, removing
voters from the rolls, declaring all kinds of IDs unacceptable—if these crooks
have missed one opportunity to deny citizens their rights, it’s certainly not
for want of trying.
These tactics are the kinds of things you find
in backward countries, which we appear to be well on our way to becoming. And
it scares the living daylights out of me. They’re also clearly the actions of
people who’ve held power for as long as they can remember and are terrified
that they might not be able to retain it if “the others” start demanding to share in it. (In this case, the others
include women, people of color, LGBTQ, immigrants and many more.) The closer we
others get to the seat of power, the more unhinged these people are going to get,
and the greater the likelihood that their fear and rage will manifest in
violence.
It’s not like we haven’t seen some of this
before—the Civil Rights and anti-war movements in my lifetime were bathed in
blood. Before that there were campaigns to organize labor. All of these
movements took place over years or decades; in each case, the power-holders did
not relinquish control with grace. And it’s clear that they just went
underground with their grievances. We’re now facing decades worth of papered-over
resentment gushing out like cockroaches through a gouge in the wall.
I’m trying to contain my anxiety. I’ve voted; I’ve
contributed to political campaigns; it’s in the hands of the electorate…
As you know, my preferred therapy in such situations is music. I’m
thinking that a Requiem is in order, so let’s have the one from Mozart.
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