Against Panic

When I was fifteen, Ronald Reagan was elected president. I had heard that he was a moron, an empty suit, someone who had played second banana to a monkey, for Pete’s sake. He was going to 1) blow everything up, either through a cowboy mentality or sheer muttonheadedness, and 2) Reduce everyone to Dickensian penury (I saw shirts that said “Reaganomics is working, and that’s why you aren’t!”) while he was waiting for the nukes to warm up.

When I was eighteen and a Freshman in college, Ronald Reagan was still President. We invaded Grenada, and I was told that the draft would resume and I was gonna get shipped off to die in some malaria-infested hellhole, assuming that I survived Basic. I remember standing in a dorm lobby telling Stacey James that I didn’t think I’d be able to hack it. That year also featured the showing of ABC’s The Day After, previewing the nuclear desolation that would likely happen before I left college.

In 1990, I was in grad school, and Bush 41 was President. I heard about the New World Order, enslaving us on behalf of the oligarchy, which was in turn directed by the Skull & Bones/Bilderbergers/CFR/Illuminati.

A few years later, Bill Clinton was President, and I heard that health care would be nationalized, that trying to choose one’s own doctor would be punishable bribery, that it was the end of the Republic. I was told that Janet Reno-led goon squads would burst into every home and murder anyone who dared live in a way contrary to the Central Plan. Mrs. M and I got married and had a kid.

Bush 43 became president (again, via conspiracy and a “stolen” election), and his dunderheadedness meant that America was hurtling toward collapse. And when 2008 rolled around, I was told that Bush 43 (or the eminence grise, Dick Cheney) would declare martial law and refuse to surrender power to an African American.

In 2008, I was 43, and Barack Obama was elected president. People screamed about black helicopters, RFID chip implants, and UN Camps for those who dared to disagree. Americans would be disarmed, subjected to Sharia, and exterminated as infidels. Martial law would be declared.

Now, Donald Trump has been elected. I’m told that it will be open season on gays and minorities, and that women would be unable to appear in public, lest they fall prey to the apotheosis of Rape Culture that is the Trump Voter. I’m told that he’s both a warmonger and a stooge of Vladimir Putin, a wannabe caudillo and a cross between Lonesome Rhodes and Hitler.

Am I excited by the thought of a Trump Presidency? No — he was elected without my help. But I’ve learned over the years that things are never as wonderful as you might hope, and only rarely as bad as one might fear. I’ll try to keep that in mind, because I’ve found it useful. I hope you might as well.

 

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About profmondo

Dad, husband, mostly free individual, medievalist, writer, and drummer. "Gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche."
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2 Responses to Against Panic

  1. Andrew Stevens says:

    Yep. I seriously doubt that Trump will be a good President, but the hysteria is obvious nonsense and I’m not going to pre-judge him now that he’s been elected.

  2. Robbo says:

    Heh. Confirming, my dear Prof. M, that you and I are the same age. In 1980, we were out at dinner to celebrate my mother’s birthday. During the course of the meal, somebody came into the room and announced that Carter had conceded. A woman at a table behind me said, in a very loud voice, “Thank God!”

    In 1984, during my collegiate days at the People’s Glorious Soviet of Middletown, CT (aka, Wesleyan University), I got word that one of my fellow students was so distraught at Mondale’s defeat that he wanted to hunt me down and break my nose. Unfortunately (for him, at least), he was so drunk that he passed out before he could try it.

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