In Light of the Recent Elections…

In light of recent elections, I have heard chaos and turmoil. When the results were announced, the earth opened, lava pouring across the land destroying America values, destroying the homes of all hard-working, straight Americans. The flags burned symbolically and Barack Obama removed his clever prosthetic concealing his demonic horns.

Well, I mean, that happened metaphorically, right?

I mean, the Earth shuddered with sudden change.

Didn’t you feel that?

Time to honest: I wasn’t too worried about the election. Why?

Because it was a choice between moderates. I knew that it did not matter who won, not much would change. Now that Obama is president again, while I suspect his views to shift more liberally, I know that it’s not going to change the world. And not that I would mind America changing.

Whatever, I can adapt.

And if Romney won and I lost federal aid for college, I mean, that would be a change, but I could deal with it. It’s almost as if the election did not truly decide the moral and grandiose fate of the United States. And I’m not sure why anyone would want to move to Canada after this point? I mean, Canada is terrible. If you really wanted to get away from liberal policies, I don’t know– Are there any more conservative countries than us? I’m not sure.

Like waking from a strange and lurid dream, the election was over. No one mentioned the economy or “the media” as if it existed, an amalgam of demonic spirits. Over night, elderly couples had extracted the signs from their lawns, and my curse was lifted. The curse, I believed, meant I was nearly mad—or in comparison to others, sane. I became struck with an odd, creeping feeling, a horrific notion that perhaps everyone else had descended into insanity, jabbering gibberish and talking too loudly about subjects which did not seem to matter.

For months, they screamed in a language of “politics,” citing sources that didn’t exist to support arguments wholly metaphysical or hypothetical.

“What if,” the brain-washed inquired, “Barack Obama won and then aliens attacked? What would he do? Why hasn’t he addressed that problem?”  Any attempt to swerve the conversation back to tangible and pressing issues proved ineffective against the hot-headed pollsters, the opinionated elite, who had “educated themselves.”

“Oh,” they would chide, “you should really get educated. Maybe do a little research into the truth about the elections.”

“What?” I implored them to tell me their secrets, if there was truly some conspiracy brewing. If Obama planned to murder children or if Romney plotted to destroy the university system from the inside, I wanted to be in the fold. I wanted to be the ringleader of resistance movements, ninja-leaping through the lawn of the White House to stop the Antichrist from initiating the Apocalypse. I wanted to put out buckets in my home to stop the leaking of lava through my singed roof.

But no matter I how fervently I tried to froth my mouth and gnash my teeth and cry in the midst of a tribal dance around a sacrificial fire, I could not feel as religiously as they for anything so trite. Instead, I kept in constant consciousness that the dance was an illusion, that we were not performing rituals to save the world (because this election would determine the future of human morality), but instead crass acts, calling it “politics.”

The worst shock was what people said—it’s certainly not quiet now. But those swearing in adoration or disgust are both marked as certified “crazies.” Anyone who still pursues, after this point, the cult of politics is considered a lunatic. But before, we were all lunatics, all these cloudy-eyed zombies repeating rhetoric we heard on the evening news.

What makes an election so volatile and consuming that we fall into such a trance, biting our fingernails at the drama as the ballots roll in. Today, however, the storm has settled into glass, the shudders quieting into rumbles and loud coughing and little sneezes, then finger snaps, then true and solid silence.

Perhaps the world has gone un-mad.

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About Derek Berry

Derek Berry is a novelist and spoken word poet. Derek is the author of Heathens and Liars of Lickskillet County (PRA Publishing, 2016). He co-founded and organizes The Unspoken Word, a literary non-profit based out of Charleston, SC, which provides an intendent home for the poetic arts through regular readings, workshops, and community fundraisers. He is on the Executive Board of the Charleston Poetry Festival, the inaugural production of which will be Fall 2017. His work has appeared in The Southern Tablet, Cattywampus, Charleston Currents, Illuminations, RiverSedge, and other journals.He has performed in venues across the United States and Germany. He has worked as a photographer’s assistant, busboy, and bookseller. He currently works at a curation facility for Cold War History.

Posted on November 8, 2012, in College, Controversy, Government, Humor, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. I don’t like Obama and were I an American i would not have voted for him. He reminds me too much of Tony Blair, the cynical politician who believes in whatever he thinks will get him elected.

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