What I Can't Forgive
(About You-Know-Who)
Much of our childhood instruction, visited upon us by parents, teachers, pastors, and adults overall, was about leading a moral life. Of course it wasn’t called that. It came in simpler terms. Don’t hit. Don’t bite. Be good. Share. Be honest. These lessons came at us close up from our parents, and from far away through the chain of literature and history.
The Bible and its Ten Commandments were a big part of that framework for living. Close after came secular children’s stories. The brothers Grimm were quite clear in purpose: their tales were for the moral instruction of children, and only secondarily about preserving German folklore. Cinder[E]lla, by patience and forbearance, wins the glass slipper the end. Little Red Riding Hood, too trusting of strangers, escapes with her life thanks to a kindly woodsman. (In Charles Perrault’s version, written more than 100 years earlier, Miss Riding Hood becomes a tasty snack for Mr. Wolf.) Heinrich Hoffmann’s Der Struwwel[P]eter (1845) offered graphic, illustrated stories of consequences for bad behavior. Sucking your thumb? In kommt der Schneider, und klippt klopp! That is, a tailor bursts in (with a giant shearers) and nips off the bad thumb. Playing with matches? The little boy catches fire and burns to a small pile of ashes. These cautionary stories soften their tone over time, but on up through Disney to the current moment, the lessons are much the same. Grow up to be a fucking good person. The world depends of it.
Until he came along. The Orange Blob. The Hematoma on our body politic. The Melanoma on the American Experiment. Sure there have been bad, evil bastards throughout history: Caligula, Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot. Ceaușescu. But they all met their end with a strong measure of karma for their evil ways. (Here, my thought leaps ahead to Free Beer Day, which will come, my friends!) But the problem is The Now.
Because he willfully broke the chain of moral order, we now must live in the resulting chaos. In the destroyed hellscape of truth, facts, and science. In the erasure of civility, the ascendance of easy hate. All the personal traits we worked on so hard, sometimes painfully, to be a standup, good person? They no longer have societal meaning. You can be rich, powerful, and famous without being a moral or ethical person. In fact, it looks more likely that you can achieve the American Dream by being a conniving, lying asshole. I mean, he did it, right? To me, his crimes, corruption, boorishness, and vulgarity all take a back seat to his injury to the moral order, which has shaken our belief systems. Wrecked our peace of mind.
For the moment, then, we must hang onto what we know is true. Moral living is still the right way, the only way. (I mean, it has to be, right?) And (2) he will die, maybe sooner rather than later; time’s wing’ed chariot waits for no man. And (3) on that day there will be dancing in the streets, worldwide. Imagine the joy we’ll share!
And of course all the free beer.