March 31, 2016
Four Candidates For President of The United States
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?
An appealing fact about Mr. Trump is he does not run a slick packaged campaign. He makes mistakes as real people do. But he also shows spine unlike the cuttlefish who run the government in DC. He is not a product of Harvard or Yale, another good sign.
These four rivers all flow to a dark, gloomy place. The camps rallying behind Sanders, Clinton, Cruz, and Trump are largely composed of contemptible, vile human beings, because that's America these days.
One must recall that God is great and merciful. He's seen nations collapse into the vices of vanity and dissipation before. This election is happening in the worldly realm, which is thankfully not the eternal kingdom. God has a plan that we can't figure out by watching CNN.
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Many people like the thought of overturning a corrupt and sclerotic government system but when confronted with the possibility of actually overturning that system, they curl up under their covers, shaking with fear, and cry out for the dysfunctional ghosts of bygone dark ages to come and protect them. Perhaps most Americans have Stockholm syndrome or haven't read Alexis de Tocqueville, or both – they are like the Romans of Cicero's time, who can survive neither the disease nor the cure.
The problem, of course, isn't Hillary or Bernie or Ted or Trump – it's we. Our national culture has deteriorated, and we Americans have become shockingly horrible people: fat, selfish, bitter, weak, lazy, fake, and mean. No tribe of malcontents ever deserved someone like Donald J. Trump more than we do, to tell us each day what losers we are. It will be a new kind of ordeal. Maybe it will be good for us. Maybe it won't.
Ted, Bernie, and Hillary will be just as lousy as we expect them to be. Trump will be lousy in new and unexpected ways. We're all floating down the river in our handbaskets toward a dark, gloomy place, but the case can be made for picking the one handbasket that isn't like the others.
March 31, 2016
Four Handbaskets Headed for Hades
By Robert Oscar Lopez