20201102

a prelude for november (scenes from an apocalypse, cont'd)

November is an odd month. Some years it's a herald of winter's impending arrival, and some years it's autumn's last hurrah, with all the crisp days and vivid colors that implies. Some years, I suppose, it's both. I've always thought of it as the start of winter here in the northwest. November is the month when the gloom settles in, if nothing else.


And of course, every two years, the US holds federal elections in November; this year it's a presidential election, and this year pretending that it holds much in common with that tradition is so deeply misguided as to be actively harmful. This year, we're holding our breath wondering how much violence there will be in the streets on election night and the nights that follow. This year, we're wondering if the president, if he loses the election, will concede. We're wondering if the fascist party that supports him will aid him in a coup if he doesn't. We're wondering if the efforts both by officials of the fascist party and by their brownshirt supporters to suppress, steal, or destroy votes will succeed at stealing the election. We're wondering how anyone could have any faith in our electoral process at all. We're wondering how long we're going to have to hold our breath.

My intention to write every day last month fell apart; I moved to a new place, I got sick, and it's so hard to focus these days as the end creeps ever closer. I'll try again this month. There are stories that want telling, after all. It may very well fall apart, however; there is so much uncertainty now, so much chaos. So let's make that our theme for this month. Chaos. Unpredictability. Discord. A word that can hold so much hope and fear all at once.

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