In the Name of Progression

There was a moment, when tears mounted cautiously behind eyelids and signs and t-shirts proclaiming His eminence waived though the air, when I realized something else was happening besides just the vociferous announcement of the coming One. That the subject of the unadulterated and unmitigated fervor was anything less than immortal made the scene unsettling. That this was in support of a man--any man--resonated deeply within me that the ground on which they were treading was shaky at best and entirely destructive at worst.

Activity in the political process was escorted out as far too timid a stance when these followers decided the better response was unrestricted allegiance. This was not brought about by patriotic possibilities or any sense of political ideology, but by a character. What is typically shouted down as dangerous--the dogmatic adherence to ideology--became the beacon of hope and the wellspring of life as soon as the ideology took the form of an ideologue.

That was 2 months ago. But last night the world watched as the tears bound audaciously over eyelids with a disheartening lack of trepidation. The emotion of the faithful took hostage the reason of the individual, leaving a tearful horde in its wake. Whatever part of me understands the emotion of overturning a racial barrier in this country is still subject to the knowledge of what has really happened.

To those who feel a sense of vindication, however slight, that they accomplished what their ancestors could not, I celebrate with you. Humans have within them the desire to take control of their lot; to prevail over the oppression of their people. But to exercise ones intrinsic and inalienable yearning on the platitudes and campaign promises of a man to whom you will henceforth have no connection with or control over is to watch ones dreams set sail for edge of the world. I feel a tremendous amount of pity for the poor, the defeated, the destitute and the disillusioned who, in their moment of desperation, have cast the hopes and fears of a dying world onto a man who has promised everything. The history books record this trend as often as any theme written or imagined; to the hurting and innocent, my compassion; to the ignorant and complicit, my disdain.

Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. - C.S. Lewis