A Desert of Bones
Tim Barrus: The New York Times
I am worried. Elizabeth Warren is far more impressive than I had given her credit for, and she would obviously make a historic president.
I did not know she was so physically tiny.
That should not matter.
But on a stage with the Monstrosity.
The Monstrosity would physically eat her alive. I don’t want to see it.
And then it hit me. Rome.
Elections are now blood sport. And Americans want blood and guts spilling as they scream for more. Politicians give them what they want, and give them what they want, and give them what they want.
The Monstrosity is in his corner, and he’s hungry. The audience loves him because he gives them what they want. Viscera at every turn. Death to children who do not look like your children or his children. Death to the sick. Death for the treason of disloyalty. Death to the planet. He will bring you your own head on a stick.
Who are we is the question. What do we really care about. Who do we walk in the world with. What are our values. What do we really believe in. How do we manage a culture that has been squeezed dry as a desert of bones.
How do we wash this blood from the Monstrosity splattered on our face.
This election is not about the Monstrosity. It’s about us. Who are we. Have you ever heard an empire crumble. Rome did not burn itself to the ground. It endured and it was not sustainable. It dwindled slowly. It bled out. We ignore a bigger history than ourselves. All roads lead ourselves to us.
Who are we.