As the electoral farce continues I notice that something extraordinary is happening outside the realm of mainstream politics.
“I’ve….got to go outside. Just for a minute. I need to see the night sky, breathe the air.”
“You don’t feel sick do you?” Sick? Far from it. Whether it was the whiskey or the potentialities of an American Spring slowly shooting out from beneath me I felt as if I could stay up all night. Technically I already had.
“Nah, I just need something for my article.”
“O-okay. Just make sure to lock the door.”
Things are getting so desperate Americans can no longer wait: Presidents are not promising to put an end to black men being harassed and killed by the cops, courts are not punishing rich kids who rape girls behind dumpsters, senators are not stopping the slave labor taking place in prisons, and the laws will not stop profit hungry locusts from destroying all we hold dear.
The presidential election, America’s biggest reality show, is increasingly just becoming background noise. The”most powerful office” in the land is widely acknowledged as just a placeholder. This is a paradigm shift.
The wee hours of the morning yield an interesting landscape as my bare feet hit asphalt, a den of shadows and shapes slowly but surely being pulled towards the light. Parties are ending, lovers are leaving locked arms, and inside homes across the nation the humdrum world of day-to-day action is jettisoned for the more interesting engagements of the astral. In the background a tv infomercial hawks its useless products to a non-existent audience. That commercial is what this election has become and what the next presidency will be.