This is not an essay about what I am thinking while sitting in an airport terminal. This is about the end of things. Not just my own personal end, which via heart attack or stroke may happen at any moment. But the ends of hope and dreams, of birds and bees, and possibly life on earth.
Now, I just eliminated 75% of Trumpkins with that last joke, mainly because they didn’t understand, but also because they feel insulted by it. Whenever I say anything about how the current government policies have impacted my health, wealth, and happiness they tell me I am a snowflake and they insult me further because I hurt their feelings. 25% will keep reading to find ammunition to use in hate memes on Facebook and rage tweets on Twitter. After that last Facebook kerfluffle, I am tempted to disengage from social media. They are not buying my books because of it. They are only getting madder and madder at me and hating me more and more for being a goddam liberal. Though, when asked, they still assure me they would never unfriend me.
Relationships with people I have always known and cared about are one of the things threatened with imminent demise. The domination of politics and government by the Republican Party is the reason why.I
I myself don’t have to worry too much about the demise of prosperity. I am already bankrupt and planning for a future life living in a cardboard box. But as Trumpian economics continue to work on world markets, everyone else will soon be joining me in suburban-yard farming and eating insects for protein. Tariffs and trade wars are already destabilizing the world’s economy. Stocks are beginning to fall. Of course, the consequences won’t fall on us like a ton of bricks until after enough Republicans win re-election in 2018 to protect Cinnamon Hitler from the crimes he committed to become President.
Of course, the biggest coming demise that I wish to lament in this post will basically take care of all other things. The demise of all life on earth will pretty much take care of anyone’s need to lament about anything. As the world becomes hotter and hotter, and the oceans turn to acid and rise to swallow Miami, and the planet becomes more of a twin to Venus, the Koch Brothers and others who profit from polluting will be laughing about it. They will either be safely dead of old age or ensconced in gilded survival bunkers. They may even have another planet to live on already.
Okay, as I hyperbolize and carry on about doom and gloom, I need to remind you that I am a pessimist. I always plan for the worst so that I can only be pleasantly surprised. And it really can’t get worse than what I am planning for here. But that is not to say there is no hope. All of these problems have solutions. But I don’t anticipate they will be solved under present conditions.