Messed Up In The Trump Cult
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It is incredible to ponder on how obsessed America has been with one individual for the last decade. This republic, this land of the free, has been messed up in the Trump cult of personality. Hundreds of millions of Americans have had their lives upset and f***** with by one, fairly sordid, son of a second rate property developer. Celebrity is the weakness of this people. Their unhealthy fondness for the faux familiarity of celebrity. So much for progress, for the democratic journey over decades and centuries. So much for the American Experiment. What was the Revolution for if you suck up to a wanna be king?
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.”
—T.S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets (Gardners Books; Main edition, April 30, 2001) Originally published 1943.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
The Trump Fame
The whole world is sick of this grub. This red capped, smug, man who hogs the limelight like a fat moth that just wont die. We are sick of writing about Trump. Heartily sick of hearing about him and seeing his visage on our screens. Talk about wearing out your 15 minutes of fame. It’s not 15 years! Minutes Mister Trump. He is hated by many more folk in the world than loved. Do the math. Messed up in the Trump cult and missing the point.
Trump Is Against Modern American Values
Trump is not for anything! He is against climate change awareness and renewables as a solution – the greatest challenge humanity faces in the 21C! Trump is against DEI – diversity, equity and inclusion of those long left out from America’s bounty train. Trump is against women having autonomy of their own reproductive health. Trump is against gender and sexual preference freedoms for individuals. Trump is against the guardrails which hold power accountable.
Trump Is The Ugly American Writ Large
The late Robert Hughes wrote about America and its culture of complaint, back in the day. This has morphed into the politics of grievance and given birth to the Trump cult of personality bitching and moaning about everything progressive in America. Messed up in the Trump cult many Americans are cutting their own throats, economically and in terms of social freedoms. Celebrity does not confer goodness in the moral sense. The current era is a zeitgeist of immorality, a vacuum of virtue, where loud mouthed celebs portray the ugly American on steroids.
“Imagine electing a President capable of turning the world against you in record time. Trump making America hated globally. Have you ever had a relationship with someone who turned out to be the most selfish person you have known? Someone who may have started out promising you a shopping list of goodies but ended up costing you big time? I think many of us have met such individuals in our time. Donald J Trump is that man for the United States of America.”
The Hollow Men
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us — if at all — not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer —
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
It is like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Robert Sudha Hamilton is the author of America Matters: Pre-apocalyptic Posts & Essays in the Shadow of Trump.
©MidasWord
