DEEP THOUGHTS OR DAFT IDEAS? INTERLUDE

Buzzkill

The inestimable creativity of Douglas Adams notwithstanding, the answer to “the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything” might be something other than “42”

The astute among you will have noticed that my last post was well over two years ago. If you were waiting for the second installment of my thought project linking Trinitarian theology with String Theory, you have no doubt been scratching your head and wondering if I’ve been felled by some kind of personal tragedy. I have, but it is way less serious a matter than you imagine.

What happened is this: I went to work on the next post almost immediately. I did quite a bit of research, poring over the writings of early Church Fathers to glean an authoritative understanding of the Triune God, His component persons, and their inter-personal relationships. It was difficult work. Reading the early Church Fathers is not unlike reading U.S. tax code, slightly more momentous perhaps, but dry as a Baptist county. When I was finished, I went back over the text to make a few adjustments and ended up accidentally deleting the whole thing in a disastrously irretrievable way.

Fuck me!!

I had been, up to this point, quite pleased with myself and the results of my labors. I thought I’d made sense of a difficult topic and done so in a way that was as entertaining as it was illuminating. I thought that what I had written so far was going to make it easy to integrate the third installment about theoretical physics into my overarching thesis: that we are, all of us as well as everything else, part of the same sublimely organized nothingness, that at a sub-sub-atomic level there is no difference between the metaphysical composition of Gaudi’s Basilica of the Sacred Family in Barcelona and Stormy Daniels except in terms of organization and mix, and we ought therefore to just get over ourselves. But all that work and all that excellence was gone. I was defeated, and have remained so for all this intervening time.

Now you know what happened. You should also know that I blame Donald Effingham Trump.

In another age, I would just suck it up and redo the work. In the age of Trump, I don’t see the point. Maybe you understand this and maybe you don’t. Frankly, I don’t care. It’s my truth. It’s where I live. In another age, when I made a mistake, I would fix it no matter how difficult the fix might be. I’ve never been a fan of doing again something I’ve already done, but I’ve always done it nonetheless because I believed that there was some benefit, if not to me then to someone else. I keep telling people that we have to leave the world in a better state than we found it. It’s okay to fail at this, but it’s not okay not to try. (You can read that exact phrase in the ‘About Me’ tab at the top of this page.)

But…

Since Donald Gasbagofperfidy Trump, I can no longer deal with the futility of this kind of altruism.

Since Donald Slimefinger Trump managed to get himself elected president of the United States (with or without the help, solicited or not, of Russia, Israel, and a collection of Neo-Nazi sympathizers,) there is no longer any hope for humanity. That Trump got even one vote more than his own condemns us all.

That Donald Ranciddiaper Trump was, and still is, championed as the chosen candidate of Almighty God by a rabid rabble of evangelical renegades is proof enough that all of humankind has been abandoned by it’s Creator. Son of said Creator sits quietly in a corner of heaven weeping while the righteous renegades, invoking His Name, beat each other half to death with crosses and flagstaffs and accuse everyone else of their own sins and failings, up to and including cannibalism and pedophilia.

Donald Adderall Trump continues to hold vast swaths of the voting public in thrall and to dominate the news cycle in spite of:

1. Never uttering a single coherent phrase of English that wasn’t about himself.
2. Never demonstrating a single instance of loyalty that wasn’t transactional.
3. Never performing a single act of kindness.
4. Never showing a single ounce of remorse or regret.
5. Never, ever, even once, telling a truth when a lie would serve him.
6. Marshalling all his dark proclivities and all his dark minions to hold on to the power of an office that was denied him in a safe and fair election by those of us who understand all the above.

One day, perhaps soon, I will exit this grand funk and become productive once again. Something devoutly to be wished for…but don’t hold your breath.

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