It is difficult to comprehend the extent to which there are two completely different Americas, existing side-by-side, like one of those science-fiction constructs, two intermingling realites, separated not in time and space but by alternate perceptions so drastically and radically different that neither is even aware of the other’s existence, except in fleeting moments when they brush up against each other. Sort of like the Thin Place you read about in tales of the supernatural, between the real world and the world of Fairie. The inhabitants of the two worlds look on events and see things the other would never recognize.
This difference in perception and conception does not mean, however, that both worlds are equally valid. Before this dichotomy took such a firm hold on our national consciousness, it is impossible to imagine that Trump’s behavior would ever have been seen as valid, much less admirable, by anyone. There was a time when incoherence, ignorance, lack of focus and a blatantly self-serving agenda would have been perceived the same by everyone. But now we have a significant (a definite minority, but still significant) segment of the electorate invested in this president. Once they pulled the lever, they established a psycological connection that will find validation wherever and however they can.
This dichotomy is destroying the very fabric of our national character, eroding our ethos, undermining our unity. The only vain hope is to think that somehow, this madness will pass, the veil will be pulled back, the obvious insanity will be recognized by everyone, and the abominations that Trump has visited upon us will fade back into the shadows. But the greater likelihood is that this ignorant egomaniacal sociopath has effected too much damage, both on the institutions of our government, and upon the Office of the Presidency itself, for it to ever truly recover.
The most probable outcome is is a world devoid of decorum and good will, a landscape reduced to a pile of detestable rubble. No shining city on a hill, but a dystopic gutter replete with outlet malls and trash on the bottom, separated from a glitzy tackiness lounging on the top.
© 2018 Chuck Puckett