No, It’s not over yet
I’ve spent the better part of this evening attempting to write this entry. But it seems like every time I st out on a path there’s some new revelation that has a bearing on the contest. As I’m writing this my Twitter feed is lighting up with revelations concerning connections between Trump and the Russians.
I held this writing as long as possible in order to make it a sort of “last word” before the election, but it may turn out that by the weekend there will be more to say. I do recognize that a blog that’s updated only a few times a month is not your go-to source for election related information, even if it were “on topic” to dwell on that subject. But I also confess I can think about little else at this moment. Not to say that I’m a Clinton enthusiast, but I feel as if watching this election occur next week will be something on the order of watching JFK get shot, or hearing about the Pearl Harbor attack, or that a state had seceded from the Union. Like we are bearing witness to a seminal moment so grave that everything else in life stops and holds it’s collective breath to see whether or not disaster ensues.
I honestly don’t know what more I can say that would be persuasive, though anyone who follows my Facebook feed knows I’ve tried. There are equivilant scandals in Trumps column for every legitimate question in Clinton’s, plus a great many beyond. But what I find frustrating is the shocking number of trans friends I have who are enthusiastic Trump supporters.
I remember what it was like to be so heavily indoctrinated into right wing thinking that I was philosophically opposed to my own self, and I remember that part and parcel with that mindset was buying into all the rhetoric about liberal media and the evils of the Clintons. I’m not really shocked that many of my local conservative acquaintances are still so affected by that brainwashing that they are willing to overlook an abundance of bad info about Trump because, well, “Clinton!”
But the trans folks? I’m stumped. You’ve come out from that self-hating doctrine enough to embrace who you really are – and in so doing become a pariah to the right wing folks you once shared a worldview with (I speak here of conservatives) and you know, therefore, they lied to you ABOUT you…why do you still trust them in other matters political?
I’m not going to take the time or space to break down any given political issue, and I’m certainly not trying to say you should become gullible for every liberal claim, but it’s a pretty objective reality – the odds are near zero that conservatives are right on EVERY issue and claim except when they speak of LGB/T equality. I know from lived experience how they mythology goes. I was certain, in 1999, that Whitewater and Mena and Vince Foster’s “murder” and all the rest were gospel truth because I trusted those who told me they were. I was convinced the Clinton’s were pure evil who’d managed to skate on a long list of heinous crimes. In other words, I believed some ridiculous stuff.
But looking back, with the benefit of well earned skepticism, I recognize that was just another of the ways my puppet masters had manipulated my worldview. That does NOT mean I think Hillary is a spotless angel, but it does mean I cannot knee-jerk to a place where no matter how bad the opposition was, I’d
choose them over evil Clinton.
Look, if the Republicans had nominated Marco Rubio or John Kasich or, I dunno, Scott Walker – I might still argue that their candidate was bad for LGB/T people, but it would be a respectful discussion in which I could fully understand why you might consider other issues of greater import (you’d still be wrong, just because of the Supreme Court alone, but I could understand your argument). But Trump brings all that’s wrong with those guys (in terms of equality) and then goes radically off the charts in terms of being orders of magnitude worse. I’ll never understand how anyone in our community could not see this.
I hope that, a week from now, we not not watch our country give into the temptation to self destruct, but I confess, I’m afraid.
Image by – Brett Neilson