By, Susan Kuebler
The bane of every parent’s existence. Stuck in the car with kids who keep asking “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” If you haven’t been the parent, then you’ve probably been the kid, on that trip that never seems like it is going to end. Mile after endless mile passes with no destination in sight.
With less than a week to go before the November 8th, there are probably millions of Americans who feel exactly the same way. Each day looms larger with newer and nastier revelations. You can’t even take a decent nap without missing a breaking news story. And none of it is good news. Nobody even pretends to discuss policy and the right direction for our country. (Apologies to supporters of Evan McMullin, but he is not likely to be a significant factor in this election.) We have descended to the level of “gotcha” emails, news stories, speeches, and commentary. Whether they are true or not is irrelevant.
Have we ever seen an election where supporters of one candidate don’t just call for the defeat, but the imprisonment of their opponent? Chants of “Lock her up” echo at rallies and campaign events, egged on by the candidate himself. Some have indirectly and openly called for her death. This is not America, folks. This is not who we are. The lies and despicable actions of Donald Trump and his alt-right fanatics make the Richard Nixon with his merry band of dirty tricksters and incompetent plumbers look like rank amateurs.
To quote the poet W. B. Yeats in “The Second Coming”
“The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.”
People and institutions we used to respect seem hell bent on tearing up the fabric of our nation. Just 11 days before a national election, the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation actively inserted his agency into the political arena, with results that could prove disastrous for a free and fair election. It’s probably true that J. Edgar Hoover may well have interfered in politics himself, but in the words of George Bernard Shaw he didn’t “do it in the streets and frighten the horses.”
We are on the road trip from hell. The mile markers are ever so slowly counting down, but there are no exits to take. The children in the back seat keep asking “Are we there yet?” while we wonder if we are going to make it at all.