Search

postmodernfamilyblog

Multigenerational Mom Muses on Twin Toddlers & Twenty-Something Daughters

Open Search
Category

donald trump

I Escaped a Cult Once, Can our Country do the Same?

The happenings in the world have sent me toppling backwards — years backwards — into the fear and frustrations and seemingly inescapable situation of my past. Of the cult I grew up in and the people who were taken prisoner by its promises and leadership.

I know what a cult can do. I know the appeal of a leader who focuses on your innermost desires and vows to put an end to your most paralyzing fears. I know what that kind of leader can do.

I know how his testimonies speak to good people with legitimate concerns. I know how his scripture touting soothes, how his pulpit pounding activates, how his charisma intoxicates.

How his promises to carry you, save you, deliver you from evil are so very welcome in our dark world. How the traits he embodies (or at least professes) — strength, charisma, Godliness — are just what you’ve been looking for to bring you — to bring everyone — into the promised land.

But he’s no Moses.

Nor is he the chosen one to lead anyone out of darkness — despite the genuine hopes behind those who support him.

But be wary of the “Hope” this man holds aloft with his dazzling promises.

I’ve lived among false promises such as he proports. I’ve watched my family — and countless others — fall under the weight of sincere hope, falsely met.

I was speaking recently with a friend of mine who shares my past and also overcame it — and is as equally worried (and furious) about what she sees unfolding as I.

In her own words, “The exploitation of a good heart is the vilest of crimes.”

And I agree.

I’ve seen far too many good hearts (then and now) used as ammunition; I’ve seen too much real hope twisted to poison. I’ve seen too many rational heads uprooted, unhinged, and made ready to destroy others — and themselves. United with him, it becomes “Us vs Them,” and the fallout is deadly. Families torn apart. Friendships. Self worth. So many lives destroyed.

And the motivations I see now are the same as the motivations of the good hearts who found themselves entangled in my childhood cult: To align more closely with God’s commandments and Christ’s teachings and traditional family values. At least that’s what so many of those who follow Trump are seeking. Despite the fact that his promises resemble nothing of Christ’s promises. Nothing of true Christianity.

White nationalism is not Christian. Prejudice and pride is not Christian. Political power over moral duty is not Christian.

Christ asked that we protect the weak, include the marginalized, serve the downtrodden. We are supposed to be good stewards of this earth, not blatantly ignore — or participate — in its destruction.

Trump’s platform is the reverse of Christ’s message. But the lambs have laid down with the wolf by the millions.

Half our country has fallen victim to a leader whose ability to bend and break wills is mind-blowing in its potency. And the fallout has already begun.

And, sadly, I’ve seen it all before.

But this time, it’s not the hearts and lives and futures of a (relatively speaking) small congregation in Texas at stake. It is the vast population of these United States. And it is not only our freedom that is threatened, it is the very soul of decency.

Yes, the happenings of this past week — and throughout the past four years — have sent me toppling backwards into a time and place in my life where my freedom was nonexistent, my future bleak and seemingly out of my control, my frustrations at those who couldn’t see the truth, overwhelming.

But this isn’t my past. It is my present. And I am terrified about what my future might hold.

I was able to escape a cult like this one once before. It took courage, unmitigated strength, and a willful refusal (every single day) to listen to the sugar-coated lies of those who would eagerly lead me astray. I had to guard myself at every angle, lest they slip the Kool Aid into my mouth, lest they place the blinders over my eyes.

I pray our country can now do the same.

But, y’all… I’m really, really scared.

0

when men hold bibles as weapons of oppression

Y’all, I’m terrified.

I’ve been on the side of white men in power suits wielding the Bible as a weapon before. I know on an up-close-and-personal level how dangerous a man who has fallen in love with power and believes he’s unstoppable can be. How quickly he finds allies, how quickly he finds weakness, how he uses everything in his arsenal to his advantage and against yours. I’ve lived in tyranny under the guise of Christianity.

When I was seventeen years old, I didn’t have the power to stop it. The only power I had was to run. To run away to another home. A sanctuary. At fifty-four years old I have the power to stop him. I have the power to vote. I have the power to speak out. I have the power to march. I have the power, but I can’t do it alone.

He’s already gotten away with so much more than I would have thought possible.

When he was elected three-and-a-half years ago I cried and cried and cried. It felt like mourning. It felt like death. I was terrified of what he would do. But I was assured the country had checks and balances in place to keep Trump from doing too much damage. That seems not to have been the case.

I’ve watched the POTUS navigate this country completely without moral compass, violating law and constitutional rights and human decency, time and time and time again. And then, this week, when he declared himself president of law and order and decided he would “dominate” the people he was elected to serve… when he marched his smug self and his police force (his long-dreamt of military parade) out of the Rose Garden and onto the property of St. John’s Episcopal Church, a church dedicated to humanitarian missions and serving those in need within its community, to hold up a Bible in blatant mockery of everything Christ stands for — I knew. I knew we have come to a dangerous tipping point.

I’ve seen men hold Bibles up as weapons of oppression and hatred before. I’ve lived it. And I know the havoc it can wreak. A man who holds a Bible like Hitler and seeks domination and absolute law and order squashes every liberty you’ve ever known. Will rob you of every dream you ever had — if you let them. Don’t let them.

If you are of voting age and you see the slippery slope the feverish, power-hungry philistine in office is trying to steer us all toward, you need to exercise your power, use your might: VOTE. Vote and GET HIM OUT OF OFFICE before he does irreparable harm.

Don’t run away like I did at seventeen. Don’t seek sanctuary somewhere else. THIS is a land of promise. A land of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for ALL. Not the few. Not the white. Not the patriarchy. Not the men wielding bibles as weapons.

Stand up. Fight for your freedom. Fight for your dreams. Fight for YOUR country.

VOTE. MARCH. SPEAK OUT. PROTEST.

VOTE.

0

Donald the POTUS: faithfully executing the office of the president

I just saw an article that I felt certain was satire.  It simply had to be. One worthy of SNL or “The Onion” notoriety. But no, it was no joke. It was the Real Deal. A sad, ironic dick move by the Trump White House kind of deal. But what should the public (or public television) expect from the twisted, perverted Art of the Deal master himself?

His White House, in all its rank insensitivity — or blatant ignorance (or both) has asked Sesame Street characters to appear at the annual White House Egg Roll — in keeping with previous years when Big Bird and Elmo and other beloved Sesame Street characters have been in attendance. It should be an appearance they relish… interacting with the children who adore them and learn so much from their counting and alphabet skits, their sing-a-longs, and their sensitive, educational interactions with every type of people from every walk of life.  Why, then, does this story smack of irony?

Could it be because the Trump White House asked the darling Muppets of PBS fame… as in public television… as in the network that falls under the Corporation for Public Broadcasting… as in one of those Endowment for the Arts recipients which Trump has argued should no longer receive federal funding… Because who needs public television?

Well, apparently Donald J. Trump, the orange, tiny-handed, strangely Muppet-like president himself needs public television. At least for the weekend — to do his bidding and render up services, like so many others he has callously bagged and then tossed aside.

So, hey, Ernie, Bert, Cookie Monster… all you others with your necks currently stretched precariously thin awaiting the government gallows… would you mind climbing down for a second or two to help out your bloody executioner? He needs you to win over the crowds. It’s a great photo op. For him. Not you. You have marginal worth and are expendable. But he — he could really use you to help him with the rolling of the eggs. Then he’ll get back to the rolling of your heads.

Now according to PBS, they have agreed to send a Muppet. But only one. Only one will be appearing at the 138th egg roll. In previous years, many, many more have been. So. Who will it be?

I sincerely hope it’s Oscar the Grouch. Oh, please, please, PLEASE be Oscar the Grouch – the grumpy self-righteous guy who collects garbage and rages against humanity. Why, pray tell, would I want such an unsavory character lording over the White House and influencing easily manipulated, immature minds? Why, indeed, would any of us?

. . .

Oh, so you see it too… The fact that Oscar the Grouch is the puppet version of the newly elected puppet version of a POTUS.  Think about it. Oscar behaves (and even once looked, as I shall soon reveal) just like the current president.

Consider his character: He is disagreeable and argumentative and hates everything that is good and decent in life — and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. He actively refuses to comply with rules and grumbles loudly when things don’t go his way. He is easily annoyed, but absolutely thrives on annoying others. He’s spiteful and casts blame whenever he’s in the hot seat — which he all the time. His reasoning is faulty, and he is unnaturally drawn to trash (consider his closest advisors). Finally, he is controlled by anger and a mysterious, behind-the-scenes puppeteer.

Add in the little-known fact that prior to his current mottled green manifestation, Oscar was once a dull, sickly orange, and you just can’t deny the similarities. (That color change, though, shows that Oscar the Grouch is capable of transformation, something of which I believe Donald the POTUS is incapable. Oscar can learn from his mistakes (even if grudgingly and only now and then…), but Donald the POTUS cannot.

And if all of the above still doesn’t convince you of their parallel personalities, consider the fact that twelve years ago, Sesame Street did a parody of Trump called Donald “Grump” about an angry, greedy son-of-a-beast who wants more, more, more — power and garbage.

donaldgrump

Now let’s talk garbage for a minute. Unlike Oscar the Grouch, Donald the POTUS is a bit unclear about what constitutes garbage and what doesn’t. What DOES NOT are arts and humanities programs such as PBS, NPR, poetry foundations, musical theater, and public libraries. Donald the POTUS is ready and willing to dispose of those. He’ll kick them soundly to the curb.

What DOES equate to garbage, though, are all the puffed and libertine bodies stinking up the Oval Office, piling up in the Cabinet, draped over the press secretary’s podium and filling  the “swamp” he promised so categorically to drain.

Now it is his job as president to faithfully execute the law – and indeed, we’ve seen him hacking away at it, doing his damnedest to destroy judicial checks and balances put in place by our founding fathers nearly two-and-a-half centuries ago. He is also doing his damnedest to kill the arts, the environment, and the fundamental rights of millions of Americans. And the ignorant, unsuspecting masses are cheering him on.

Donald the POTUS also vowed to faithfully execute the office of the President of the United States. And he is doing that too, rapidly and methodically.  Soon he will have destroyed all that is good and sacred about that office.

So I am waiting with baited breath for Monday morning and the annual White House Egg Roll to see who PBS sends. Please let it be Oscar. Please! Of course, the irony would be lost on Donald. He would stare blankly at his Muppet doppleganger and completely miss the jab.

But the enlightened ones among us wouldn’t. We would know. And we would laugh bitterly. And on Monday morning, the day after Easter, at the tail-end of Passover, in this most blessed season of miracles, we would pray for a miracle for America.

We would pray for deliverance from the orange Muppet in president’s clothing that is systematically ruining our nation.

And hopefully our prayers would be answered.

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑