No Acceptance. No Concession.
Nov. 3rd, 2004 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tmcgI looked at that big honkin' swath of red in the middle of the United States-shaped television graphic for hours and hours last night.
I thought, I don't live where I thought I lived.
I thought, Fine. You fuckers want him, you got him. You think a tanked economy is a good thing, you got it. You think what we've done to Iraq is a good thing, you got it. You think we're safer now? You go right ahead. You want it, you got it, and I wish you joy of it.
I thought, I live on a fringe. A literal fringe. There's my little blue chunk in the Northeast, and there's that little blue stretch of West Coast, and that's it. I really thought there were more of us. I had no idea.
I thought, No. There's more blue out there than that. A lot of those red states only went something like 51% for Bush. The red is a deceptive visual. Split some of those states half red and half blue and you've got a more accurate representation of how people voted. But what does that mean? Is this a civil war?
I thought, I should get out of this place. Go live in Ireland. Newfoundland. Cape Breton. Tasmania. So many of my friends joked bitterly that if Bush won on Tuesday they were out of here. N/o/n/e/ Few of them meant it. We're complacent. Our lives are good here. Maybe we should mean it. Maybe we should think about seriously meaning it. I don't know if I want to pledge my allegiance to what this country is anymore.
I thought, It's not over. I remember feeling this way when Reagan was reelected, and we survived that. It's historical rubato. It just means we have to fight harder. Protest harder, speak out more loudly, do more, wake up. We can't go back to sleep. No matter how disheartened we are, we can't crawl under the covers now, we can't roll over. What's good about this country is still worth fighting for.
I thought, What if it's not? What if this really is the way it's going, what if this really is what the majority want, what if we really are just going to be the bad guys and that's just the way it is?
As I write this, Edwards is on introducing Kerry for his concession speech, saying that at the bottom of our disheartenment today resides a hope that a better America is still worth fighting for. I'm so tired of election rhetoric. I'm so tired of wanting to believe in words like that. But as I finish writing this, Kerry is on, and he's talking about what will stay with us from this campaign. "The time will come, the election will come, when your work and your ballots will change the world, and it's worth fighting for." And I think, Maybe there's some momentum here that can continue, that won't fade away.
It's a very small thought. My disheartenment, my appalledness, is very large. I don't see healing ahead. I see grueling battle or defeated withdrawal. But he's saying "our fight goes on." And I guess that's what I'd like to think.
Don't Mourn, Organize
I thought, I don't live where I thought I lived.
I thought, Fine. You fuckers want him, you got him. You think a tanked economy is a good thing, you got it. You think what we've done to Iraq is a good thing, you got it. You think we're safer now? You go right ahead. You want it, you got it, and I wish you joy of it.
I thought, I live on a fringe. A literal fringe. There's my little blue chunk in the Northeast, and there's that little blue stretch of West Coast, and that's it. I really thought there were more of us. I had no idea.
I thought, No. There's more blue out there than that. A lot of those red states only went something like 51% for Bush. The red is a deceptive visual. Split some of those states half red and half blue and you've got a more accurate representation of how people voted. But what does that mean? Is this a civil war?
I thought, I should get out of this place. Go live in Ireland. Newfoundland. Cape Breton. Tasmania. So many of my friends joked bitterly that if Bush won on Tuesday they were out of here. N/o/n/e/ Few of them meant it. We're complacent. Our lives are good here. Maybe we should mean it. Maybe we should think about seriously meaning it. I don't know if I want to pledge my allegiance to what this country is anymore.
I thought, It's not over. I remember feeling this way when Reagan was reelected, and we survived that. It's historical rubato. It just means we have to fight harder. Protest harder, speak out more loudly, do more, wake up. We can't go back to sleep. No matter how disheartened we are, we can't crawl under the covers now, we can't roll over. What's good about this country is still worth fighting for.
I thought, What if it's not? What if this really is the way it's going, what if this really is what the majority want, what if we really are just going to be the bad guys and that's just the way it is?
As I write this, Edwards is on introducing Kerry for his concession speech, saying that at the bottom of our disheartenment today resides a hope that a better America is still worth fighting for. I'm so tired of election rhetoric. I'm so tired of wanting to believe in words like that. But as I finish writing this, Kerry is on, and he's talking about what will stay with us from this campaign. "The time will come, the election will come, when your work and your ballots will change the world, and it's worth fighting for." And I think, Maybe there's some momentum here that can continue, that won't fade away.
It's a very small thought. My disheartenment, my appalledness, is very large. I don't see healing ahead. I see grueling battle or defeated withdrawal. But he's saying "our fight goes on." And I guess that's what I'd like to think.
Don't Mourn, Organize
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Re: sleepless
Date: 2004-11-03 12:05 pm (UTC)I hope you get some rest soon!