SURREALITY
Hillbilly Elegy, Indeed
Trump will get his, but it won’t be “perfect”
Author’s note: The following piece originally appeared in my Substack, Sherry Raw.
I’m numb, and my head is throbbing. This morning, after another restless night, I felt a palpable shift in the world’s algorithm. Donald Trump is president-elect. I assumed that as Election Day faded into the rearview mirror of my mind’s eye, life would return to a semblance of normalcy.
I was mistaken. After all, it’s only Saturday. Funny how time stands still when the unfathomable occurs. And, what’s unfathomable is that my former fellow Americans voted to put a criminal back in the White House because the notion of a woman of color as President of the United States was a non-starter.
To hell with them all. To hell with the airheaded white women who voted for Donald Trump, to hell with the “strong,” black men, whose dicks went limp at the notion of a “Madam President” and to hell with the “vermin” who, in return for their vote, will get a one-way ticket out of the U.S. Good. As another writer declared, “I’ll help them pack.”
Sometimes, I can be horrible. It’s my crutch when I’m feeling scared, like now. There’s much to be frightened of and it hasn’t even begun. “It.” That’s incorrect. I should say…
