Trumpenstein Looms in Sleepytown: Fini


We left the rally and that evening I ended up at a local rock pub listening to a few indie bands. The first group up was a Prince cover band, the lead singer budding the “Purple Rain” coiffure and singing the hits off said album. The next day news was announced that Prince had died…the irony of life sometimes is obscene.

I took the next few days to process the Trump rally, evaluating what I had seen and comparing it to the dozens upon dozens of news stories and feeds I’ve caught during the 2016 campaign. This was not the crowd of right wing berserkers like CNN and other affiliates had been exploiting on the airwaves. Politics aside, they were pretty much normal people…the likes of which you could see gathered at some religious revival or a local high school football game. These weren’t the fanatical rogue rangers we saw squatting on federal property out in Oregon or punching on Trump antagonists.

The weekend came around while I was still debating myself on those (and other) questions. Spring is looming and the full moon influence brought Trump and the death of Prince to my mental doorstep. Circumstances led me to stumble onto a few squares of blotter acid and that led to a full evening at my local haunt, Dormans. The night drove on as my friends and I chattered like squirrels and washed down the LSD with a glass or three of mezcal. After closing the bar down I sauntered off with some other dudes on the promise of cocaine and more debate on life, death and everything….except politics. The early hours became a throwback to an earlier era, when people got extremely high and had ‘rap’ sessions for hours on end…or just talked away the acid until they came down enough to sleep. This guy had a cool little pad to chill at until the sun came up and he flipped on old Dylan music and recorded concerts of the Grateful Dead. He was a writer, specifically (of what I heard but not necessarily exclusive)  of poems. Next to his desk was a pile of poems he had typed out on a manual typewriter.
“These are like…my masturbations” he said pointing to the stack of poems. His work was deep and painted some really powerful imagery but it was also laced with a pain he harbors over lost relationships with women. He had been dating a stripper at one time. He went from there to a webcam girl. I can see where that would feed a whole lot of pain and art and we three talked and consoled each other in the knowledge of acceptance. No matter how off keel our brains may have been at that moment from the drugs and alcohol, we all assured one another that things were no less sane than what CNN and Fox and half the news feed off the internet was telling us.

Early that morning, a few hours before the sun would come up, I wandered on the streets to get back home. I was lost momentarily as the drugs had led me in a directional loop. The morning life of animals in my neighborhood is incredible and I wandered a bit to listen to the birds sing. The bird calls gave me some clarity and slowly I began to conclude the whole Trump rally and what I got from it. Trump has secured a big number of extremist right wing conservative voters and now needs to seal the deal by appealing to a less extreme crowd. The Republican Party has stranded a huge group of their people that weren’t prepared to go as far (right) as Trump-hell, a good amount of GOP big names on the field didn’t want to go as far as Trump, but sensationalized news stories rallied people to rattle their Republican sabres and this kept Trumpenstein alive. The monster was fed from a panicky audience of voters who were dissatisfied by the other candidates and needed to assure themselves that Hillary Clinton would not become the next President. It’s another situation where people are not voting for one candidate so much as they are voting to oppose another. Push came to shove in the election cycle and the race is now coming into the home stretch. Citizens unhappy with Barack Obama and dreading the thought of a Clinton presidency follow-up are frantic. Strong support for a Republican candidate will become hinged on whether Sanders or Clinton take the nomination for the Democrats. Sanders may bring less a Republican voter turnout; Hillary will have people coming down from the mountains of Tennessee and beyond to strike her chances in office.

Now I sit in the Church and wait to see what the finals bring about. Who will get called for that last competition in the battle? Will it be the popular candidate or a predestined ringer? Will I be able to trust the voter turnout numbers on screen or can I go out (like I did to the Trump rally) and see an alternate reality? All we have to rely on is….



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