All over the white net, debates rage about the nature of Donald Trump’s presidency. Will he keep his flagrant promises or wont he? Is he a stooge of the mysterious elite, or is he a friend of the little guy?
I don’t care one way or the other. My brand of apathy may be the key to resolving conflict between the naive optimists and the annoying doom-sayers. Before I can show how, I’ll have to play matchmaker between the two sides:
Voting is a sin, certainly, but are there reasons to forgive (or at least sympathize with) our misguided brethren who voted for the Donald?
The answer, I think, lies in the two main reasons our ilk voted for him. 1: their pathological communitarian cohesion (that is: their healthy psychological attachment to being part of a community and participating in national rituals), and 2: their disbelief in a particular conspiracy theory that says a cabal of evil men control all political outcomes.
To the first: as the survivor of government education, I’m a little jealous of those who retain a healthy attachment to their community. Any such feelings I had were destroyed (through the art of negro-induced humiliation) and replaced with anger at a degenerate society that can’t get its fill of blasphemy and sacrilege.
Assuming everyone else escaped with their sense of community and a few marginally-conservative political views, we ought to forgive them for voting. It’s tempting to sing in beautiful choirs, after all, even if the lyrics are bad. Who hasn’t belted out a Garth Brooks tune in the shower? Who hasn’t done the “wave” at a baseball game? Who hasn’t gotten caught up in national fervor when the romance of the thing seems honorable? Who hasn’t voted for a politician? In a sane world, the joy we feel at joining a national cause is an expression of health.
To the second, I admit I’m skeptical. I disagree with strict theorists about the global conspiracy. Say I disagree in scope and flavor instead of substance. Battling the ruling clique is less like defeating the final boss in a video game and more like getting our parents to feed us lunch at 2pm instead of noon. It’s just too ingrained of a pattern to buck. And given the West’s transformation from Christendom to Dildolechia, ought we be surprised at the resulting political climate? The pro-Trumpers, even if they reject the all-sovereign conspirators paradigm, ought to at least recognize that by voting, they’re propping up the pillars of Dildolech. Nevertheless, an optimistic expectation of change is a hard feeling to ignore, especially when it’s coupled with the sense of community action mentioned above.
It’s here the pro-Trumpers reply with a list pragmatic calculations. I’d ask the cranky curmudgeons of the “I-told-you-he’d-let-you-down” camp to forgive their voting friends. Forgive them because they’re right. It is true that by all objective metrics, Donald Trump is better for us than a Hillary Clinton. Even if you don’t support voting as an institution, why not take advantage of what we’re offered by choosing the much lauded “lesser of two evils”? In this case, the vote (at the very least) shows the political world what we (oppressed white Christians) want from our leaders – they’re on notice and know who to pander to next time, and what to say.
I was literally kicked off the Trump train (by the Secret Service) – I’ve written about it elsewhere. But I still wish I had a foot in the mainstream illusion, enough to believe, along with the throngs of flag-waving socialites, that Trump was a ray of blonde light in Dildolechia.
Here’s where my own brand of pragmatism comes in, however:
Regardless of what the pagans do or don’t do, I’ve disassociated from them. I no longer think of myself as an American. I’m a North Carolinian (for example), by accident. I happen to have been born here, but I’m not *of* here. Not any more. Now I’m *of* a different world. A world I’ve read about in dusty old novels. That’s my home. No amount of voting will get me to it. And Donald Trump? I truly believe he is a gift from God. A reprieve from the reign of evil. A time of truce. A calm in the storm. And while I have more admiration for him than any other president in my lifetime, and while I love how he infuriates the liberals, I don’t put my hope of salvation in him. Not in him nor in any amount of lever-pulling and machine-building.
Once this is realized, the entire frame of discussion shifts. The debate disappears. I’m able to appreciate Trump’s presidency without thinking of him as a messiah figure or being too emotionally distraught when he makes decisions I strongly disagree with. Dis-associate thy-self! That’s the key. It’s a miserable key, but a necessary one.
Become free men! Citizens of a different world.