The first in a regular series dealing with the current “heinous fuckery” (copyright @ChuckWendig).
Ground rules: I’ll try and present solutions. If you tell me to shut the fuck up, well, my gaff, my rules. I reserve the right to be as offensive as my late grasp of inventively offensive language allows.
I can’t be offensive enough about Trump to make a difference, so I have to be accurate and use Germany’s name for him. For a nation that lives with the permanent, now-empty memorials of the old horrors of nazism and the holocaust, their name “horror clown” puts Trump in perspective. Trump is simple, he’s the huckster selling snake oil off the back of a wagon. The problem is not Trump’s moral idiocy, but the fact so many people bought the snake oil, not only those desperate enough to believe the lies, but the racist bigotry of true idiocy. The real fuckery is that he’s made good on a promise. He promised to drain the swamp. He has. The slimy, slithering dregs of malpractising veniality that have come to light have immediately been given a place in Trump’s administration.
The solution is not to waste time on the slimy horrors on Trump’s administration. Trump is impeachable, he’s been impeachable ever since he signed his trademark scrawl-wall of a signature just over three weeks’ ago.
Trump is one man, but Trump-ism is everywhere that a voiceless underclass latches onto at whatever the snake oil sellers are using to sell their particular brand of horrible bigotry and isolationism. Here in the UK it’s Brexit. It is compounded by a lack of effective alternatives, and a deep mistrust, or over-reliance, on political competence. Hillary’s political competence rules her out for many, something I found difficult to understand until my inner competence junkie greeted Theresa May as our hero. I mistook the workings of a relentlessly political animal for genuine social concern. In the middle of the endlessly catalyzing effect of Trump on other political leaders, it took the choice of appeasement, faced with moral idiocy, to dislodge Theresa from my need for a responsible adult. Which is understandable, given the heinous fuckery we’re all living through.
What it also brought up was our need for heroes to lead us. Sometimes just somebody to do all that hard, joined-up thinking, but sometimes, as happened with Corbyn’s meteoric rise in popularity, a desire for a lama, a principled guru to follow. We’ve learned to check credentials and in this case, lack of workable competence, but the desire for principled political leaders was genuine.
Jo Cox was a hero, is a hero, will always be a hero. Extremists don’t target the flawed amongst us, they target the ones with the unique values of bravery and compassion. Because the qualities are contained in a human frame, and the twisted logic of fear believes the destruction of the human being means the destruction of their qualities, Jo Cox was the target. Around her, politics as a game of spunky biscuit with the lives of ordinary people, reached the point where it was no longer a game. For one year, Jo Cox showed what a true politician could be, and no-one came near her for real humanitarian concern for the lot of people like us.
Variously, our political leaders walked away because the game wasn’t worth the trouble (Cameron), thought their particular brand of self-serving deviousness could come out from the shadows (Gove and no, still looking and acting like a nasty little git), realised the fun had stopped (Johnson). Farage is still peddling his poisonous brand of fascist snake oil at every opportunity but mainly, it was as if some unexpected intuition showed the political leaders of the UK what can happen to the real thing, and they weren’t the real thing.
So many heroes left us last year, it seemed as if some sort of human cosmic crap rushed in to fill the gap. I think we have to be our own heroes. We have to support what’s right, keep dealing with the shit when we’ve got our lives to lead. We still own the streets, we can still say what we need to say and let others say the complete opposite without imploding.
Who will save us from this heinous fuckery?
Us’ll save us.
Give yourself time off, keep to one clear target at a time. Don’t build any walls. Don’t let anyone else rope you into building walls. Hero-ing is hard work.