I’m not a Democrat. I’m certainly not a Republican. I consider myself politically independent, because I’m a precious little snowflake with completely unique views on all the issues. I take the time during every election to sit down and research every candidate, and then I make my pick based entirely on the facts, using cold, emotionless reason to make my choices. I am a voting machine, almost literally.
So it was unusual when, last week, I voted for every single Democratic candidate, and not a single Republican. I did this because I plainly could not bring myself to vote for the same party that even marginally supported Donald Trump. Donald Trump’s national campaign of hate for 99% of the world’s population was a bit too much for me, and I could not in any way support the institution that sat back and said, “Yes, this is fine. Please do this more.” Yes there were Republicans that chastised Trump for… grabbing pussy? They were okay with everything else? Especially the “Mexicans are rapists” crap? That got the man fired from NBC, but, no, the Republicans were pretty extraordinarily cool with that. I was not, and I could not in good conscious vote for any institution that was.
But I was evidently the minority. Okay, that isn’t true, Clinton did win the popular vote, but it didn’t help. Trump is now the President-Elect of the United States of America, and, God help us all, he will be our sitting President for the next four years.
And, in trying to discern how we got to this point, I remembered my own brief political career.
This will surprise absolutely no one, but I was kind of a nerd in high school. I was the morning DJ for our in-house television network, a member of the computer club, and I fooled around in the school play my senior year. But before all that, the club I joined before I even technically attended high school (they start early!) was marching band. I had been in “band” since fourth grade (I was a nerdy middleschooler, too!), and despite some of my friends dropping out of the activity to pursue “cool” endeavors like track or basketball, I was going to stick with marching band. It was a lot of effort for very little fame or recognition, but I’ve got my trumpet, I’m going to blow my horn on that football field like a champ!
Only problem was that I wasn’t very good at it.
I wasn’t terrible. I’ve got quick fingers (for some reason), and the ability to move in time with other marchers, but, ultimately, I don’t think I ever had the lips for it. Or the rhythm. Or the endurance. Or the ability to memorize music. Or the attention span to ever practice for more than five minutes. In retrospect, I probably could have been the best little trumpeter in the history of trumpeting, but I’d rather be playing Final Fantasy 7 (released opposite my first marching band season), and I was pretty much just in the band to hang out with my (predominantly extra nerdy) peer group. I was never going to be first trumpet, drum major, or even a remotely good role model for the incoming freshman, so I basically just resigned myself to being a marching band “body” in the formation.
But I did realize where I might be able to make a difference: band management.
My sophomore year, I ran for band vice president. I ran on a platform of electing me, an underclassman, as vice president now, so I could learn the ropes, and then make big changes when I was inevitably president the following year (and I’d be a Junior President, not a Senior, which would mean I’d actually care about the band because I wasn’t about to graduate out in a year). I ran on a platform of issues within the band that I’d make it my purpose to reform, and I did my best to appeal to the valuable freshman vote, because I figured they’d have the most reason to support an underclassman with their interests at heart.
I… wasn’t terribly surprised.
The following year, my friend Toni decided to run for band president. Toni was not a political person, and only volunteered for candidacy because the graduating seniors thought she would be a good president. Toni was not super popular, she was simply that kind of person that fails to exist in teen movies: well-liked, generally personable, but not ever going to be prom queen or class president. Her greatest accomplishment was not offending practically anyone. Suffice it to say, she was not exactly a shoe-in for band president, but she chose me as her running mate. She remembered my campaign from the previous year, and basically said, “Hey, wanna be my VP? Nobody else wants to do it.” She… might have literally said that.
So I agreed, and we had a week to prepare for the “election”, which would take place after everyone running for office presented a short speech on “why you should vote for me (us)”. We did nothing during that week. We didn’t canvass the voters, we didn’t try to grease the gears of democracy, and I don’t think we even actually saw each other. We kind of ran in different social circles, so, meh, we’ll throw something together on Election Day.
And throw something together we did. In the fifteen minutes before practice started, Toni and I worked out a kick-ass speech, mostly written by yours truly. It had slogans. It had audience participation. It involved a random conscripted dude (who I’m pretty sure had a crush on Toni) tossing a tennis ball on stage so she could prove she’d “catch” any incoming problems. It was a thing of beauty, and, to this day, one of my greatest regrets is that it was not recorded or in any way transcribed, because it was one of those rare occasions in my life where I can safely say I went from zero to hero inside of a half hour.
And we won. Despite running against some of the most popular kids in the marching band (Ha! Oxymoron!), we achieved victory. When I canvassed the band geeks about my (surprising) victory a little later, the most common response was, “Well, I voted for you because you put the most effort into your campaign.” That was, as I’ve said, complete bullshit, but it was bullshit no one recognized. We won on a platform of a complete lie, and I’m still proud of such an achievement.
Now, I obviously want to draw a comparison between my own stupid little marching band campaign and that of the woefully under qualified and already-backpedaling President Elect, but there’s a coda to my story…
Unlike my losing sophomore run, my victorious junior Vice Presidency was predicated on a platform of “hey, why not”. Toni and I had no real “plan” for the band, and the following year… Uh… Well, sorry to say, but I don’t think there was a band student government. I remember showing up for one meeting in the Fall, and past that… No, I think we literally did nothing. Toni and I straight up failed the band geeks, and I want to say the reason the Class of 2001 Band Trip was “nowhere” was entirely on us. We went to California in 1999! 2001? Nothing. The following year, there were no band government elections, and the director simply chose the smelly kid to be president by right of “she’ll probably actually do something”. As a result, I felt as bad as a teenager could possibly feel about marching band student government, which isn’t really that much. Does this impact how often I make out with my girlfriend? No? Okay then.
But it’s that feeling that I want to talk about. It’s that feeling that made President Trump.
Look, that stuff earlier about not being a Democrat? It’s bullshit, I know I’m a Democrat. About 90% of my beliefs align with Democratic Philosophy, and much of the Republican platform makes me downright ill. Right off the top of my head, I don’t think I could ever vote for a party that so vehemently indicts a woman’s right to choose (and it doesn’t matter to me whether that’s because of a genuine belief, or a desperate need for the evangelical vote). And, as I’ve been reminded in recent days, I have a lot of friends and family with similar beliefs. Even the people that seem to be just generally in my orbit (local business owner I’m kinda friends with, retired secretary from a job I had fifteen years ago, ex-mistress of a dude I used to be in a band with) all seem to vaguely Democratic, and it makes me think that these people are my friends and support group because we share similar temperaments and beliefs. It’s a stereotype, but the archetypical “all bluster” Republican is not the kind of guy (inevitably guy) that I can deal with on a frequent basis, so people with those tendencies have fallen by the wayside as I’ve aged. It’s almost entirely by accident, but I surround myself by likeminded people, and they’re mostly all Democrats (or at least, evidently, very anti-Trump).
And, honestly, I feel like a great problem with my social circle is that we’re all a bunch of weenies.
Yes, we talk a big game. Yes, we post those dank memes about our favorite candidates. But, when you get down to it, I think I have exactly one (1) friend on my entire buddy list that is active about actually getting off her ass and going to political rallies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of my friends hold up a protest sign for anything but eating meat, and I can very safely say not a single one of my friends has ever stood up to law enforcement for any reason (because I know my friends, and if it happened to a single one of them, they’d never stop talking about it, ever). We’re not fighters, but again, I feel like my social circle breaks that way is because I don’t like fighting. Who needs the aggravation?
And I keep coming back to that stupid marching band election. I keep coming back to how thrilled I was to win, and then how useless I was as an actual politician. That was just on the meager level of a high school marching band (here’s a tip, a high school marching band has never dramatically impacted international politics), but it’s still an event that sticks in my mind. There, at the age of sixteen (or so?), I had already determined that I might be a great showman, but I’m a terrible leader. Or vice-leader. Whatever. Point is that I could use theatrics to win a position I’m not trained for, but that wouldn’t make my qualifications any less insubstantial, and, ultimately, the people that voted for me would suffer. I’m certain I’m not the only one of my friends, not the only Democrat, with this experience, and I’m sure there are a million Democrats out there that are fit for public office, but don’t want to descend into that “dog and pony show” sphere that Is the current political arena. Any of these Democrats could make a killing in the political field, but who wants to be subject to the circus that is modern day politics?
Well, maybe someone would like to step up and be the next “Democrat version of Trump”. Here’s a fun fact: a Democratic Trump might be a crazy misrepresentation of his or her party, but they couldn’t be nearly as racist as the Trump campaign! And that’s important!
Look, we all know the world we live in today. I spent months making that Bohemian Rhapsody video for the #200 entry, but I know that I could get about twelve times more hits if I just posted a video of my mother’s cats chasing a laser pointer. They’re such silly kitties! How many people here have ever posted a link to Youtube, and added the qualifier, “oh, wait for it, it gets good after fifteen seconds”? Think about that. Think about what it means that you have to convince someone to wait fifteen seconds to get to a good part, and think about what it means that you know most people won’t even bother to do that. We all know we live in the information age, and, if, you know where to look, you could literally download every song that has ever existed, right now, for free, and be listening to the entire playlist by dinnertime. You could be playing the entire NES library right now, for free, and the only reason you’re not is because you have other things to do with your time. And that’s the crux of it, with so many avenues available, we no longer have to worry about being bored ever.
So why do we think a “boring” candidate is ever going to work again? Why did Clinton campaign on policy and facts when her opponent could literally deny what he said seconds earlier midway through a sentence? Why, in the age of hundred word tweets dictating the course of popularity did we ever think winning five hours of live debates would mean anything? How many people actually watched the debates? And how many people actually voted? The answer is ten million less Democrats than voted for the audacity of hope. Let’s face the music, people, politics is entertainment now, and the American public is going to vote for the best entertainer. Trump might wind up being the worst President in the history of the nation, but, dammit, he’s funny to watch. And that’s enough for a lot of people. That’s enough for sixty million people.
And if you want to claim there were a pile of other reasons to vote for Trump, consider how many of those reasons come down to his ability to properly articulate his position and project his own beliefs. He’s a great businessman? No, Paris Hilton was able to grow her inheritance at a better rate than a guy who did nothing but try to please his daddy for decades. He cares about the little guy? No, his long history of business ventures tells the story of a man who absolutely will not pay for anything unless legally forced, and that includes paying small businesses and craftsmen. He’s going to get jobs? Sanction foreign powers? Build a wall? How? He never presented a worthwhile answer to any of those important questions. And, probably his biggest plus, he “feels the pain” of the disenfranchised, he knows the plight of forgotten Middle America, and he’s going to make America the great nation it once was… Except, come on, guys, he’s a wealthy New York City trust fund brat. He’s a “Washington outsider”, yes, but only because no other political party would touch his odious ass over the last seventy years.
But none of that matters, because Trump presented himself as a genuine man who would fight for your rights. Even after… everything… that happened during the last year, he still denied every last allegation, and never wavered on his own belief in himself. I said all along that Trump wasn’t running for President, he was running for Trump, a position that had to be Trump at all times. What I didn’t expect was that so many people wanted Trump to be Trump, and that’s all it takes to become President. People gobbled up Trump hook, line, and sinker, and now we’re all on the sushi table.
I know I’m defeating my own point by throwing 3,000 words at “we need to start thinking like punchy little youtubbers” (Christ, I can’t even think of a concise way to say that), but this is what the world needs right now. Yes, I mean “the world”. Trump is going to be bad for everybody: for proof, just ask Mexico how their market is looking right now after merely the promise of Trump taking power. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I’m not worried about Trump nuking the whole of humanity… and the fact that such a thing is even on the table now is striking. One way or another, Trump is going to be the end of a lot of things, and whether or not these are things that you care about, he’s going to have an impact on the rest of Western society.
And it all wouldn’t have happened if the Democrats hadn’t run, in short, a nerd.
People want their cat videos. People want their ten second memes. People want a candidate that says one thing, and says it over and over again. People want the showman. The Democrats ignored this, and we’re all worse for it. We, every single Democrat, ignored this simple truth. It might have been for the right reasons, but “the right reasons” aren’t going to keep the polar ice caps from melting, or from children growing up in a world filled with racism/misogyny/homophobia. Yes, we’re all afraid of being that ineffectual band vice president (or that might just be me), but it’s time to get out there and do something, and posting nonsense on Facebook isn’t going to cut it anymore.
Run the clown. Join the circus. We literally cannot do any worse than the man that was just elected.
Make Democrats great again.