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I was 10 years old when I first heard his name. I never quite understood it, they just told me he was a bad person. A very very bad person, who shouldn’t be anywhere near the White House. I just thought his hair looked pretty funny. 

I was 10 when I feigned an ignorant desire – about wanting the lady to win; because all the adults at the dining table would always be talking about how this means disaster for the world. And when I asked my Dad what the hell an electoral college was, it didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t. I just thought his skin was strangely orange. 

I was 10 when I stood in my canteen, looking up at the television screen; and I found out the villain had won. The bad guy of the play had triumph. And people wept. I clutched my lunchbox and wondered; all that for emails? Then, I went to play catch in the field. 

...

I was 14 when I heard his name again. I never quite understood it, and was surprised he was going for a second round. A very very bad person, who shouldn’t be anywhere back near the White House. I still thought his hair looked funny. 

I was 14 when I read about the saintly grandpa that was supposed to take down the villain, because all the adults at the dining table would always be talking about how he must be voted out, no matter the cost. And when some black man went; I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, suddenly the world turned upside down. The news told me the country was going to implode. It still hasn’t. I just thought he looked oranger and uglier. 

I was 14 when I heard the news while playing Call of Duty Modern Warfare during my HBL, and I found out the evil had been vanquished. The good guys had won again. And people cheered. I got a UAV killstreak, and wondered; will he be mad enough to be back again? Then, I queued another Team Deathmatch. 

...

At 18, when I heard his name for the third time. I understood it now, and I knew the lengths to which great men will go to prove their worth. A very very bad person, who shouldn’t be anywhere near a pedestal, or a woman, or the White House. His hair will never cease being funny. 

At 18, when I read in the news that some moron had missed his shot, I joined the adults at the table about how the country would plunge into a civil war if he really did die. We discussed to great lengths, alternatives; for we had seen the old grandpa was going senile and couldn’t possibly be handling the Free World with his grubby fingers. That’s when I knew that this country was going to be stuck between a rock and a damn hard place. He looked the ugliest I’ve ever seen.

At 18, I heard that a DEI hire could be what it takes to take down the villain again. She could be the one to set the record straight, and protect the country, as if she were Siegfried. This war could be fought in all fronts – and for all the women, gays, transgenders, blacks, browns and yellows, but yet relent for the white tide. 

At 18, I will hear the news again while studying for HL Economics, and recall not to make the misconception that a tariff on Chinese goods shall only affect the Chinese, and not Americans. Then, I’ll feign an ignorant desire; about giving a fuck about any of this. The world will still turn. The horseshoe will still bend. 

But mark; et pluribus unum? 

6 November 2024