Month: February 2016

Why Trump?

Dear Washington,

I’m just an average Republican. I’m religious. I’m middle class. I’m conservative. While growing up in California during the Reagan administration, I believed in America. I believed it was the greatest country in the world, and I still do. However, all you slimeballs are ruining it for the rest of us patriots. How we see it, you sit around the White House and the Capitol, and pretend you are working for the people while really just employing strategies to keep yourself on the American governmental dole. A lot of the time, you are just out playing golf and taking your family on luxurious vacations on my tax dollar. Some of you are sleeping with prostitutes. You drink your Starbucks coffee brought to you by all your unpaid interns and 37 assistants. You assign yourselves exemptions from ObamaCare and pay raises. You crap on the Constitution with your executive orders and Supreme Court legislation. You wine and dine the big money and make secret deals for your campaign funds. You smooze with Hollywood and throw ridiculous parties. You fly first-class. You go to church for the cameras. You pretend you want race and poverty issues resolved yet continue to oppress people. You think everyone should do what you say instead of doing what the majority of us wish.

You do all the things that I don’t do — that I will never do. I don’t fly, much less first class. I can’t afford Starbucks coffee, if I did drink coffee. I don’t have the luxury of ever sitting on my butt. I don’t have ideal healthcare coverage paid for by people with less than I do. I didn’t even go to the doctor when I broke a rib last year because the last thing I needed was another doctor bill. I don’t have a retirement fund that was given to me by people I ignore. I don’t have a single assistant although I could really use some help at home while I am in my college courses. You see, even though I believe in the mother’s role in nurturing her kids at home, I need to gain my large family a second income so that we can pay our mortgage. I rarely go on vacation, and if I do, I camp somewhere close by so that I don’t have to spend too much on gas that was drilled in the Middle East.

But, enough about me. Let’s talk about Donald Trump. I’m not in the Trump camp, but I can see why so many are. Half of my party is grumbling on facebook about the other half who support Trump. You see, in case you didn’t know, Trump supporters must be idiots.The other quarter of Republicans are divided between Cruz and Rubio, and the liberal media is already innundating us with their typical propoganda about how all three of them are in Washington’s pocket. Surely, we can trust Hillary or Bernie more than any Republican. Psh. I believe I am in the last quarter of my party. I am in the quarter who gave up on Washington somewhere between a Bush and the first African-American president. It may have been when Clinton was lying about Lewinsky. It may have been when my health insurance became a bad joke. It may have been when I lost my home in 2011 because the state of TN couldn’t pay their court-appointed attorneys on time, even though that attorney’s clients always got their welfare checks on the clock. Maybe it was when I realized that America would jump at the chance to elect a fradulent woman, but not a cleancut patriotic Mormon. I don’t know, but I am definitely Washington-averse. I don’t like you people. Any of you! And you don’t like me, so the feeling is mutual. Let’s just make that clear, so I don’t feel bad for admitting my unChristianlike feelings. Let’s not even get started on religion.

So, why Trump? I believe it’s because a lot of America is saying, why not? Can it get any worse than the circus it is now? If we have a bunch of selfish crooks in Washington, why not let a reality TV star join them? At least he will bring a little of his own money that he made without the IRS involved. Why not get a guy who can give his own speech without a staff telling him what needs to be said to secure the most votes? Why not get a guy who recognizes that the average American is sick and tired of paying for things illegals get for free? For delivering the babies for the people who don’t pay taxes? Why not elect the guy who doesn’t want drug addicts buying steaks when I can’t afford hamburger? Why not? Anything has got to be better than what we have now? Anything. Trump is anything. He is the only viable candidate that we have that has not made a career out of pretending he cares about me.

Trump is popular because Trump is seen as the outsider. Period. If we could go back to Ross Perot, we would, but we all know how that turned out. America is screwed. We have no choices in government anymore, so why should we care? It’s all going to hell in a handbasket.

Forget you people. We are over it.

Sincerely,

Just an average Republican who wishes she could start a revolution. Instead she might just vote for Trump because it doesn’t require her to buy guns illegally in a month from now when her beloved Republic becomes a socialistic dictatorship.

Happy birthday, buddy.

Today my nephew Braxton is sixteen. He’s most definitely celebrating on the other side. With some green balloons and maybe an airhead or fruit roll-up. Oh, how we miss him. There’s a special story that I hold dear to my heart about Braxton and my son Maximus. Someday I’ll share it. I know these two were buddies in another realm. Even though Braxton had graduated from earthlife and Max hadn’t started yet, I know that they were together cheering one another on. It’s a special thing to think about. I’m actually pretty jealous about it. On days when I’m Max-ed out as a mom and I’m wondering why I had Max at 41, I think of Braxton, and I thank him for sending me Max. I can’t wait to someday sit around a fire, and hear the story from Braxton’s perspective.

Happy birthday, buddy. We sure love you!

What if

Today society is being bombarded with online messages. It happens at my house, that is for sure. While cooking dinner the other night, I listened on with equal parts entertainment and disgrace as my three teenage daughters were hashtag-searching for all available Kardashian trivia. The idea of the newly discovered brother, Rob, was “epic”. They laughed at the idea of him being too self-conscious from weight-gain to be included in the family photo concluding that he must be just as vain as his sisters. My daughters’ brother, Max, is a heavy-weight too. It’s a good thing he’s too young to be embarassed. Of course, that led them to the natural succession of assigning other Kardashian equivalents to our family. Finishing with the completely insane idea of their dad having a sex-change to become a Kaitlin. Roars of laughter. I even chuckled at that.

This conversation got me thinking about the mind-numbing nature of the internet. As a mother I want to withstand the harmful culture. I want more for my kids. I have big plans for our front room when we move. It will be an electronic-free zone. The only thing available will be books, records, musical instruments, notebooks and pens, art supplies, and comfy chairs for lounging, pondering, sharing, and creating. The only rule will be to seek out the best things of the world. The wisest things. The secrets of the universe. All will be encouraged to find answers for troubling things and to seek serenity. I cannot wait. I have a feeling when my kids discover the joy of a distraction-free zone, it’ll become the best gathering place in the house. If they don’t discover it, I will have a totally quiet space to enjoy it for myself. I’m not gonna lie: both conclusions sound equally legendary. You see, even though I try to be a really good mom, I’m still by nature, selfish. I need a room where I can figure out how to change.

great minds

So, as I’ve been planning the details of my new home’s room of intellectual glory, I’ve simultaneously been learning about a literary analysis called deconstruction that is focused on assumptions in the reading/writing process. The scholar, Jaques Derrida, encourages taking apart literary works and looking at them from a new angle. He thinks that as readers we should find a point of emphasis and then ask ourselves “what if”. What if the meaning were different? What if there were no limits of language, but we could open our minds to endless possibilites? I know. I know. It all sounds a little too new-age and LSDish, and yes, this is a discovery from the 1960’s. It’s taken me a lot of time to understand its usefullness. I found the answer on facebook, of all places. Homework procrastination can be helpful sometimes.

So, here it is:

What if that black rapper who does all the crazy stuff (you know the one who people call a sad excuse for a human) is really battling some kind of mental illness?

What if those people on food-stamps actually work harder than you, and are doing better than you with the little resources they’ve been given in life?

What if butter is really good for you?

What if those people who have more kids than they can afford actually listen to God more than you do?

What if God is trying to tell you to help them?

What if there is no life after this where you will ever be able to eat again?

What if all you’ll be allowed to eat are the things that you didn’t overindulge in now?

What if that star is your future?

What if the alcoholic was beat and raped throughout her childhood and she drinks to keep the nightmares away?

What if you really learned to love yourself?

What if evolutionism and creationism are both true?

What if it’s easier to get into heaven as a homosexual than it is as a heterosexual?

What if light is dark and dark is light?

What if you automatically go to hell if you have never owned a family pet?

What if the Bible is true?

What if the least of these is really the greatest? Like the janitor?

What if sexy is nonexistent?

Anyhow, I could do this all day. Even though I am not quite getting to the really deep ideas that the literary theory intends, I think the less deep ideas hold greater life applications.

What if asking “what if” only accomplished a world where people would quit judging each other and start loving each other more?

Then, desconstruction would actually have worth. Instead of just making everything have no meaning, and being the biggest liberal warcry of all time, it would literally provide worldpeace. I think God likes that.