'Twas the Day Before the Election

Hey Friends,

I want to take you back to the day before the election. Mon Nov 7, 2016 was a rather strange day for me. I'm usually a peaceful little hobbit minding my own business at home & rarely do I seek the noise of "out there." But every once in awhile a day takes a wrong turn and you find yourself walking far, far from home to get away from the ominous drone in your head.

Drone of one's own sudden locomotive urge and a sense that something is so wrong in the world you may kill yourself if you don't walk out the front door & keep going til you reach the sanctuary of your youth…

…the place where you spent so many hours trying to feel like the sun & the trees & the stars & even the blood that ran through you belonged as much to you as to the people who claimed it all freely & loudly w/out ever questioning whether it was theirs….

…the place that's undergone its own drastic transition since you last took refuge there in your 20s….

I walked an hour to get there, among the people and the beautiful banyans…and I continued to feel "weird"--no words for it--not my occasional T rage, not the excruciating anxiety of 2015, nor the overflowing sadness of '14---but a sickening combo of all that plus a dollop of some new ingredient I didn't recognize.

Of course now I recognize it as that psychic ailment I get when big weird things are just around the corner.

Here's a …..poem…..I wrote while out of my hobbitzone

************

Not the infinite coda of worry

Premature electorate

Orange death rattle softens to static

White noise left over from all races

Popcorn hisses & licorice whacks

I had to leave the house today

AWOL from my hermit stronghold

Painfully detached from self, others, breakdown, recovery

All that work to piece my stained glass facets into a parable

Worth a new gospel, grown up coloring book wax on shrieking alabaster

White house of padded worship, isolationism

I volunteered to be a one-way sensory overload; a listener for life

All around the thrust of voices, pistons striking my whole organic amphitheater temple

No congregation shall be powered by

Sick children

Nail polish bitch bishops taking over private homo church

And its secretly sick adults

Sports w/ balls or politics

Poker Pokemon Pox VOX POP

Broken A/C rescue dog nipping sick sad children under vestments

Histrionic bitemark appears to be a somatic apparition deacon

Banyan canopy above my picnic

So I walked

Far from all those memories of WHY

Why I remain a) alive  b) alone  c) unable to reach my closest primate relatives without plugging into

Streaky blue small talk chakra / direct current here but alternating in afterlife transactions 

My larynx smashed against my jawbone

The dragonfly thought it was a dog  I begged it to heal my flattened heart

I begged for its contempt but it smiled and went to have drinks w/ a helicopter

International airport lifts the lonely cat-free child-heavy crowd so I can pass

Now I practice

Giving no shits "HELLO!" I shout at the rough hewn mister whose home is in the permanent sun

Or was red from crying at a severed phone service, or who just paid a boy still fuzzy & equine for a

Right swipe reach around in Starbuck's upstairs shit pantry.

Not overthinking his precondition how "HELLO" will hit him

Like I always overthink a thing and end up unfriendly

Most words never make it past my teeth and flow through my fingers instead

But I shoved my voice in his face

Like all voices & opinions are shoveled at me faster than I can

Dig out of my reverie 

Of course I got no response which flicked the

Sarcasm on/off on/off on/off til it caught fire & I belted at the grey-collars

Driving their golf cart down the sidewalk "Get the fuck outta the way!" aka "Punch me!"

I never would've begged for rape's pink slip

But I'll put in a request for a black eye

Who the fuck is my new hormone boss?

Stuporvise me. I enter the newly gated & scaffolded Xingxing Xxxxxm Grxxnds where 

I once freely walked & sat & sketched & danced & fantasized & kissed the naked rears of statues 

But where I am accosted by elderly wXmXn more afraid than I of home's resounding hive-silence

Telling me I need to check in at the desk before I can sit or walk or sketch 

"WHAT FOR??" I say w/out over or underthinking or caring or worrying how it will reflect on my upbringing or if anyone will want to hurt me for it

"We need you to leave your zipcode at the desk"

"THIS HAS BEEN MY ZIP CODE FOR FORTY YEARS, BEFORE THE DESK WAS EVER HERE"

I proceed right to the outdoors and no one volunteers to stop me.

Octopus colony of banyans beyond rose garden thorned with babies & sunlight. I try benches for thrones, picnic tables like a fairy princess. I am not at home. The world reeks of oysters but not my own.

Moment of clarity: I'm not so separate from others as I am from my own greatness.

I never met that clone. When you see no end to loneliness your sleight of overthought comes to the rescue

My privilege to be lonely for no common you's & they's could corrupt my program

Crude as a lite brite, future spirograph flower more angelic than 011110010110100101110000

The lips that drip like hoses, the faces unzipped for every needling notion

Too patterned for my wild genius

Right. No one flowers after eons of clarity lead only to

Regression

Intellect w/ no angelic emotional oversight

You haven't clenched that moment and stretched it into a terminal masterpiece

Your claw-machine loosens its grip

On that fuzzy little chicken-beats-egg thesis 

Lost to sick kids, dogs

Broken hunger nail polish chipped window enamel rectangle hacked

A great oboe-blast of wind and children barking me away to a new spot where i write, pelicans splash,

German tourists drag their sandals What would Hitler say? 

Fussen auf! Marz! 

More children drawn to my angry genderless personal space

I offer a gentlemanly 'hi' to the boy in glasses

Who hovers like a mosquito too close to my nerves

And like a charm my acknowledgement disperses him

A flock of tiny molecules who need their mother

More than a sweaty stranger on a harsh covalence of bench

[I need liquid. But which restroom will I use?]

I could feel Satan within a 10 mile radius

So I ended up in the men's room first time since over saturating news w/ potty mouth debate

Made me a glaring error  A room for emperors w/ no mirror

To watch your plastic lunchmeat genitals leak

I almost hoped for a run-in w/ a gender nazi

A sausage inquisitor or heart-attackable G-pa

But I was alone in there with all my power

IMPOSE

DECLARE

ENFORCE

PROCLAIM

INFLICT

DICTATE

11-7-16

*******************

All right. That was a poem about my Hobbity little adventure before the election. I'm sure there will be more days like that one…I can feel it in the air, oh lord. But I'm ready for whatever comes, whatever I have to do to survive it. I found the courage to use the men's room unironically, but now I'm back to being scared again. I wish bravery was something I had all the time, but no…I only get it when I'm jacked up on adrenaline and cortisol and metabolized T.

I'll be back sometime w/ more adventures.

UNITED STATES OF ATTENTION-WHOREDOM

Congratulations America, you are now a reality show. 

And I'm playing to get kicked off.

FRIENDS!!

Wow. What a shocker, huh?  You may have noticed that I was quiet throughout this whole debate/campaign/election shitshow. Sure, I'd post a silly meme now & then (Vlad & Donnie riding shirtless and bareback anyone?) And I think I might've written a scathing Adventure in Reality about Donnie's extravagant and supernatural ego.

I had intended this blog to be a reprimand for all the social media *noise* that preceded this election--the puff-chested posturing, the vitriol & name-calling & bullying, the histrionic doomsaying, the desperate lecturing that became threatening at times, the ignorance of "how America really works." I wanted to line you all up, smack your skulls together like big meaty dominoes and shout "America is not a dictatorship! Or a monarchy! You're all right-fighters and pissing contestants! Just shut the fuck up and vote!"   

Politics is such a sporting event and that's just how the media plays it. Just like someone who will call the Seattle Seahawks My Team!!  despite having never played for the Seahawks, we do the same with our political candidate of choice. We over-identify, we see them as an extension of ourself, a magic wand who will swish into the White House and abracadabratify all our wishes into laws. Overnight even! 

And we try to force others to see how magical & effective OUR chosen candidate will be, and how destructive & invalid THEIR candidate!

But the President isn't endowed w/ all that magic. We do ourselves a disservice to get so lathered up about something that is ultimately an individual privilege and responsibility.

NOW though, I want to swirl back in time--not too long ago--when I voted in my first election. I was 31 years old and had been eligible to vote in 3 previous elections but had CHOSEN not to. In fact, the very first election I could've voted in, I instead drank a cup of Drano and spent the next month in the hospital (long story…gender dysphoria much more severe than any elected official could fix) That was 11-8-88, the Bush/Dukakis snoozefest.

Trump cartoon from 2005

But on 11-7-2000, I decided I was officially a grown up and I needed to get my ass to the polls. I demanded it of myself. I had always lived life so far inside my head that politics couldn't reach me. I hated whispery old red-face Ronald Reagan with a passion whenever he appeared on my childhood TV. I could just see the phoniness of him, how he helped shepherd all the born-again sheeple into a "moral majority" along with the scummy tv evangelists of that era. 

But despite Ronald Reagan's efforts to be Big Brother around the world, my thoughts remained my own at home. 

My dedication to not voting continued through '92 and '96. I had trouble taking Bill Clinton seriously because he had fucked a tawdry stripper w/ my dead girl name!!! I didn't care about Washington in the '90s, I cared about surviving my own life each day, and wiping my mind clean with alcohol before bedtime. 

In the 90s there were no issues on the ballot that were "socially relevant" to me.

But in Y2K my life had taken a  surprising turn for the better, and I was able to care about things beyond the base of the survival pyramid. I had caught some of the debates between Gore and Bush & was frankly disgusted, nauseated by Bush's gibberishy aw-shucksy dumb redneck display. I was frightened by how much he appealed to so many people! He had that familiar Reagany sway over the lowest of brows furrowed into the limelight of corruption!

Couldn't people see how clownish? What a buffoon? I mean, Gore was beige as hell, but he could put words together in a sensible fashion. I had to do my part to prevent this re-Reaganing of America. So I pulled myself together to vote in that fateful election. Ironically, I was living in Bloomington, IN at the time. I got to see Florida in its full frontal ugliness from a geographical distance that made it look all the uglier.

And I thought the Reagan 80s were bad until I lived to see the Bush 00s. I think we will look back on the 00s and find few other eras in American history as monstrous. I won't go into my thoughts on election fraud & who pulled off 9/11 & exactly why the banks collapsed right before Bush left office -- I AM YOUR CRAZY UNHINGED TOTALLY UNREASONABLE CONSPIRACY FRIEND, LIVE WITH IT OR UNFRIEND ME NOW!!! --

But I voted in Y2K and the world went to hell in a Dooney & Bourke bag anyway. 

Orange angles, green skeletor

So were the Bush 00s the absolute worst years of my life? No. They were actually the best years of my life. It saddens me to say it, but 2000--2009 were absolutely magical for me. I was not untouched by the events of that era---quite the opposite. I was devastated and very psychically linked to 9/11 and the wars that followed. Not a day passed that I didn't mourn or relive or rage against Bush and his fraudulent administration. 

And one thing that was painfully clear to me was--this dumb redneck who couln't even pronounce words with more than 2 syllables was not running the show all by his lonesome. He was too dumb to conceive of and execute all the madness. I recognized his key players--Cheney, Rumsfeld, Ashcroft.

These were the seasoned, well-oiled men pulling the puppet strings. And I had not voted for them. None of us had any choice about them.

BUT, I was young & in love, we had lots of cool friends, we lived very creatively & collaboratively, I think I was at the peak of my creative genius in the 00s! How fucking awesome is that no matter who is in office? No matter how many bodies are dying in a war you never would've chosen for the world? I lived the most authentic, most thoughtful life I could EXPRESSLY FOR those who sacrificed themselves for the Bush admin's lies.

I know….I can hear you all screeching about white privilege. But what did you know about white privilege in 2004? That wasn't a buzzword until we got our black(ish) President a few years later!

I knew it would happen. Moments after my heart ballooned with pride & Star Trek arias fast forwarded me into an all-inclusive future, on 11-4-08 I knew that the great white underbelly of America would surface from its soggy lair & expose itself in some perverse manner. And surface it did. Obstruct it did. Disrespect it did. Demand birth certificates it did. Undermine it did.

And until last year it was all pretty passive/aggressive. Until the vermillion billionaire rode the escalator of the Apocalypse into our midst and announced his own plan for world domination. Hope & change gestapo-style. Law & order without either. Walls. A WALL!!! A wall? To keep rapists out?

Sorry, I'm still reeling from things he said a year ago. And this is not just a gibberishy aw-shucksy redneck. This is someone who has said things I never even heard people say before PC code rearranged our everyday vernacular. Not even so disturbed by the obscenities as by the hatred.

ANYWAY, here we are. The day after Election Day 11-8-16. This outcome is still shocking to me and I've been typing this across the hours, trying to make sense of or find some sort of comfort in what America has chosen.

Because that's the hardest part for me--the people have spoken. And this is truly not what I expected them to say. I expected a tight race for sure! But not a Trump win. And I can only blame…people. Us. YOU!!!

Let's get one thing straight. I began as a Bernie supporter, and switched to being a Hillary supporter w/out too much misgiving. I don't think Bernie Sanders would've had much better luck than Obama has had with Congress. He's considered such a whack-a-doo lefty, he would've been obstructed at every turn. But Hillary is moderate, experienced and (I thought) fairly respected. 

I will admit that at 8 o'clock last night I was expecting her to win. And I had no illusions that it would be a proud Riot Grrl moment for me. This was not, for me, like the Obama election. 

Obama was a junior senator who had captured the nation's attention when he gave a speech at the '04 DNC. He rose from obscurity on his own merit. He was no one's partner or relative. He had a weird name & he was black (enough to be black).

Hillary is someone's partner or relative. She has been circling the Presidency for years, waiting for her moment to strike. She's been around a long time, working hard & even doing a great job in some areas. She is not a rising star though…she has not risen all by herself  like I would want my first female leader to have done.

I think I wrote a blog last year about this country not being ready for a female leader. We are still a nation of immature frat boys. And this is something I meant to reprimand you all for--your inner frat boys have been revealed. I have a few friends who supported Trump, who were able to sum up in an intelligent FB post why Trump was working for them & why he had earned their support.

That's fine--I can respect that. But I did have to unfriend a few really vocal, dickish guys whose Hillary hatred trumped their Trump love. These guys were not as hard for Trump as they were against having a GIRL be the boss of them. 

And that's sad for me. It reminds me of the sign that was posted at the hardware store where I used to buy art supplies. The store was owned and operated by a woman and the sign said "A woman must work twice as hard to be considered half as good as a man." 

And I feel like Hillary has worked AT LEAST twice as hard at being a public servant as Donnie Trumpo has. But….the people have spoken….

I really did think we were past that idiotic level of sexism. Just like I thought for a moment in '08 that we could finally get past racism. Now I know Barack may get gunned down the first time he has a broken tail-light back in Chicago…

And I know now that backlash against an authority figure is often more powerful than the authority figure itself.

THAT, my friends, is probably the only thing that comforts me in these hours directly after this election.  I have no real idea what Donald Trump will be like as a world leader, as a commander in chief, as a …god forbid…lawmaker. But I do know that if he fucks up left & right, we will let him know about it. WE, the People, will rise up and put an end to it. Demand an end, an impeachment, whatever it takes.

This I believe about us. I saw where the backlash against Bush led us… I am witnessing sadly the "whitelash" against Obama. There will be a backlash against Trump, and I think it will be tremendous. HUGE.

I just watched Hillary give her concession speech through my own unexpected tears! Then Obama spoke about unity and a peaceful transfer of power. I want to say how much love and respect I have for President Obama. I have felt honored to have such a kind, eloquent, composed person as my President and I'm sadder than I could've imagined that it ends this way!

Peace, friends! Love!