Hillary as Black Hole, Bernie as 19th-Century Throwback, Author as Inebriated

by Matt B. on October 17, 2015

Dear –

I got drunk again last night, and I’m glad. I opened up. I found my own life interesting, my feelings worth talking about.

Much of the time, I don’t. I’m too used to the scenery. N asks me about my day, and I’m unsure what to say – so much of it feels so similar to everything that’s come before.

But last night – I was out with my buddy James, we got to talking politics, and it turned out that I’d been aching to play all these barely-submerged riffs. On how Hillary is the black hole of contemporary politics: instead of creating possibility or expanding our sense of ourselves, she absorbs everything into this frightening vortex of self-importance. Of how Bernie’s great in some ways, but how suspicious I feel of anyone who affiliates – even partially – with a totalizing political vision. (That sort of thing feels permissible, even romantic, in 19th century anarchists – fiery young men in shabby greatcoats, rushing across windswept squares on their way to seedy basement political meetings – but way less forgivable for anyone who’s lived through the twentieth century.) Of how there’ll always be a tension between the individual and the collective, and how no political theory will ever balance the two just right, and how a truly mature politics will start to acknowledge that (rather than spending all of its time in the sewer, nosing around for rage-bait).

Well, I’m hurting now, but I’m glad.

 

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