Reception. Observation. Perception. Emotion.

On An Island

This essay was originally written as a response to this summons from Christopher Rufo.

I was always an independent thinker, a hard-head, but supported by my wonderful parents. They weren’t perfect, but they never demanded I follow a certain life path. They encouraged my creativity. They were both raised in households where the father ruled with an iron fist, and the wife was cowed into submission. They wanted to do better for me and my sister.

As a free and honest thinker, I was never particularly drawn to the democrat party and its obvious pandering. But I was never zealous for republicans, who are famously content to be milquetoast losers. I do recall digging Reagan however, even though I was a mere child.

I was a bit of a rabble-rouser in high school and college, penning various essays where I lambasted my peers for their fakeness and hypocrisy in most matters. But I certainly never considered myself perfect. I had the great fortune of attending a few churches during my childhood which were led by pastors who were exceptionally genuine in their expositions of the Bible. I knew that I was one who had sinned (lit. “missed the mark”) on multiple occasions. A short temper and a propensity to procrastinate were my thorns in the flesh.

All throughout my life, I was someone willing to get along with anyone who operated in good faith, regardless of their politics. Indeed politics were roughly the 47th most important thing in my life. I always made sure to vote (predominantly republican, although I did vote for the democrat mayor of Nashville who brought the Titans and Predators to that fair city), but besides that, I was far more interested in philosophy, comedy, sports, and music. And video games. Definitely video games.

During my adult years, I even performed improv for several years. My cohorts were just as diverse as you would expect, but we were all having fun and exulted in making our audiences laugh. Then Trump happened. He won me over with his obvious patriotism and blunt, fun-loving style. I was looking forward to a revival of the 1980’s, a fun-filled decade that I remembered with fondness. But tragically I discovered that I was on an island by myself.

In the years since, I have become grossly disillusioned with this world. I have chosen to alienate myself from former friends and colleagues who swallowed the lies of the marxist opposition. I now resonate completely with the great Dostoevsky. I am angry yet not in a violent way. Instead I am a realist/pessimist who simply wants to live out the rest of my days and get off this train when it is finally my time.

But is there yet hope? Hope for a revival of the brash, exuberant patriotism exemplified by President Trump? I hope so, for future generations’ sake. You, Chris Rufo, have been a remarkable arrival on the scene. I certainly hope you succeed in all your endeavors. You seem to have the support of most Americans, but there are clearly evil forces at work. I have become a believer in the Calvinist concept of destiny and fate. I don’t think I personally can do anything to change the plan. But I hope the Orchestrators of this reality desire your ultimate success as much as I do. Best of luck.

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