Wednesday, November 9, 2016


It's surreal to think about a Trump presidency; it's also strange to write anything down about it. Making anything I write public is tough for me as I subject myself to so much criticism that nearly everything is erased - I can't see outside myself. And while this is always true to some extent - we can never truly see outside ourselves - I've come to use this is an excuse not to be self-reflective, not to risk the possibility of criticism. While Trump's victory isn't a harbinger of our destruction, it is deeply troubling, for reasons I don't need mention. I suppose, then, this is the time for self-reflection, not only for myself, but our country. And, if only as an indulgence, I write something down in an attempt at self-reflection, to risk criticism, from myself and others. This seems like a time to try new things, to test the boundaries of our own thought, to wake up from a cozy cynicism absolves us of responsibility, of any sort of engagement with others. As my friend Ben observed, Trump proved the 'facts' about electoral politics to be contingencies, applicable only to particular times and places; similarly, then, it follows that Trump proved engagement - language, discourse, conversation: politics - has potential, perhaps more so then ever. And if I only engage with myself, through my own flawed writing, I hope I can contribute something to my society, even if it's only a self that (for once) is trying to be better, and be better for others.

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