Something so many of us have longed for, lived for, these past seven years, has finally happened earlier today.
Trouble is, it didn't get a lot of attention, what with everyone within range of either a keyboard, television camera, and/or microphone breathlessly relating last night's results rolling in from Texas, Ohio, Vermont and Rhode Island.
Nonetheless, let's be clear: George W. Bush became a lame duck President this afternoon.
My father has worn a lot of hats: musician, athlete, educator, veteran, ex-aspiring lawyer, inventor, husband, father, grandfather. Last week, mostly out of his own tremendous curiosity and excitement about both the new medium and this unprecedented primary season, he added a new one: blogger.
For all of our legitimate apprehensions about what Bush II will mean for America---indeed, for the world---I think we may be jumping the gun on one aspect of it: his rhetorical promise to remake America in the image of the Christian Right. Indeed, as history shows us from at least the past few decades, the new GOP lineup, from Bush on down to his Congressional leaders and state governors, will almost certainly disappoint the churchgoing 'wingers who voted their approval of the man many of them consider to be the "first real Christian President" we've had.
Nifty word, isn't it? It's British slang for "knocked into the street with astonishment" or something equivalent to that. It perfectly expressed how my family and I feel since Tuesday night: like we've been sucker-punched.
The last time we suffered a national tragedy of these proportions was, naturally, eleven days into the month of September, three years ago. My parents responded, I guess, rather predictably, by turning very nasty with each other, and with me; sadly, I responded in kind.
I've been thinking about how this whole situation reminds me of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy of books. Certainly, themes of good versus evil are hardly original, either in politics or in literature, and while a fantasy series penned by an English professor of languages several decades ago should not be called prophetic in any way vis-a-vis an American presidential race, one can indeed torture the data to come up with some intriguing parallels to his classic tales. Take this journey with me, and see if it doesn't tickle your intellectual fancy.
November first is the traditional start of the ancient Celtic new year. As a student of mythology, I find this to be an intriguing coincidence today, on the eve of a new era in American politics and world citizenship. The ancient peoples of Celtic tribes would light signal fires in the hills on the preceding night, October 31, and make sacrifices to their gods, drink and carouse, and dread the passage of the deceased spirits back into the world of the living---and vice versa. Winter officially began on the first of this month; one can admire the Celtic desire to make the calendar year begin on the first day of a new season---call it a desire for symmetry and ease of change.
Everybody knows that Our Fearless Leader doesn't make mistakes, doesn't second-guess himself, and certainly doesn't have any time to invest in garnering contradictory opinions, either from ancestors who have also held presidential office, or from the media, or even from dissenting fellow Republicans. He lives in a bubble or dome of impenetrable certainty, guided by his direct line to the Almighty (should we be calling Him the "Other" Almighty, given Bush's high opinion of his own importance?), as well as, perhaps, his booze-damaged brain...and his staff, especially "Vice-President" Cheney and political mastermind Karl Rove, like to keep it that way.
