Embracing the Horror Part I: Acceptance

Yesterday we allowed ourselves to consider the possibility that Trump would lose. It wasn't pleasant. 

We recall election night 2000. When it seemed Algore won, we retired to our small study and poured ourselves a drink.

Yesterday evening we retired to our library. In 2000 we had three book cases. Today we have twelve.  We searched for comfort in the row on row of books, more than a thousand of them. We found none. Perhaps we could bury ourselves in a reading project, we thought. But we found no inspiration. We looked upon the books and thought, We're forty-seven. What's the point of all this anymore?

On a whim we picked up P.J. O'Rourke's Republican Party Reptile and re-read his account of a 1982 Volga River cruise in sponsored by The Nation. The essay was no less insightful and funny than when we first read it in 1997 or so. 

Out of the blue our closest friend facetimed us from Ireland, where he's lived some fifteen years or. We said our ancient greeting,  'Aye lad!'  He raised a glass, 'Oh good, you're drinking...' we said with irony. For no reason whatsoever we showed the man some of our books.

'Look!' we exclaimed, The Story of Civilization! Sure lots of people have it, but I've actually read about half of them!'

'Check this out, you see this book on Guadalcanal?'

'Um, yeah...'

'I bought that 30 years ago and still haven't read it!'

'Okay...?'

'Look at these, The American Heritage Series. I've got all of them! And see that shelf? That's all medieval history. Look at those primary sources, monks motherfucker!'

'Dude....Are you doing coke?'

'No, why do you ask?'

We talked amiably.

Indeed the library did seem futile. Some of those books have been unread for decades. We'll never read them. 

Bah, maybe it's just mood. We've had foot problems for over a month now. First gout in the right foot, then the lingering damage and general pain requiring three cortisone shots. Then our left toe got a gout and inflammation attack.  It was red and purple. A few days ago our oldest dropped a plate. We broke out the vacuum to clean up the shards and promptly ran over that same toe. It was at least as painful as getting kicked in the nuts. Once the toe healed we got another gout attack in the ankle. A month of this crap. A month of hobbling around, waking up at night feeling like out ankle or tow is in a vice.

And all that might be followed up by a Trump loss. By Adon's Ban...