A House Divided · 9:37pm
I wish I could be my normally cynical self and say that what's happened to my country doesn't surprise me. I wish I could say I saw this coming, or that, given their history, I would never put anything past my fellow countrymen.
But you know what? I didn't see this coming. I did put this past my fellow countrymen. I've always been a vocal critic of this country that I love - precisely because I love it - and I rarely extend it the benefit of the doubt. But I genuinely, in my heart of hearts, thought we were better than this.
America has angered me in the past. It's frustrated me, betrayed me and deeply saddened me. But this is the first time it's ever let me down. Everything else - the pointless wars, the police brutality, the mass shootings, the mass incarcerations, the attacks on immigrants and homosexuals and women - everything else I had come to expect from this country. I had even made my peace with much of it. But I always believed our higher selves would win out in the end. Part of me still believes that.
Thematically, I've never been an especially gentle or subtle writer. I think subtlety is a bit overrated. I think we artists and intellectuals tend to grant it more gravitas than it deserves. On average, we find battles of wits more engaging than battles of bodies, a preference that perfectly reflects the richness of our comfort. But few things have ever engaged me more than the threat of sudden and catastrophic bodily destruction. Honestly, I had been hoping to get away from that kind of destruction in my future stories. But now? Hmmm... I guess you could say I'm in a mood.
Heads will roll. I pray that most of them will be fictional.