Those of you abroad may not realize that we North Americans, as irrationally devoted to our peculiar form of football as you are to yours, tend to be far more interested in this, our own much beloved blood sport than we are in politics, which we are repeatedly reminded matters a great deal more to the real ups and downs of life. That is, at least until Trump, love him or hate him.
It is true there developed a healthy aversion to Hillary as well, the core of which I maintain was far better-grounded, at least for anyone aware of some of her recorded statements up through the recent past – notably, the numerous unveiled threats of nuclear war and allegiance to the widely-reviled cult of perpetual foreign aggression, points the mainline media never dwelt on. But I don’t think you can get much more grounded or to the point than that.
As for Trump, many of his “disqualifying” statements were not all that recent and frequently revealed, unacceptably outside private quarters, his widely-shared over exuberant affinity for prime female flesh. Characteristically unguarded, he left little doubt where he stood on that score. And if he declared or let slip something that even suggested personal disfavor or disinclination toward whatever ethnic group, it was automatically turned, accurately or not, through endless repetition and sometimes deliberate twisting, into the words of a Vlad the Impaler or Frankenstein’s Monster. The inevitable result? For the still scores of millions who digest, parrot, and live by the litany of the mainstream media, this compulsively outspoken and uniquely colorful, talented, and determined bogeyman who was expressly created as a candidate to be knocked down and defeated by Hillary and the forces of light and then go away, came to be reviled, perhaps for all time, as a terrifying usurper rising up from the dark side of horrible dreams. As a fascist and Stalinist modern-day Hitler allied with Putin’s unspeakable Russia, intent on implanting in our midst a sort of Ku Klux Klan/American Nazi regime, his legions of supporters all a band of degenerates or “deplorables” perversely refusing to pay homage to the good warrior/protector Queen-apparent, and who dashed all hope for a thousand years on 8 November, 2016, a day that will live in infamy. And I am not exaggerating one whit.
The vast shattered and crestfallen pro-Queen Hillary the Great/Trump’s a feakin’ monster crowd is still, one month later, holding on desperately to three thin, wet tissue paper straws in an attempt to retain some semblance of sanity: 1) their innate moral and class superiority, imparted by dint of their trademark brand of so-called “identity politics”, comparing themselves to Trump’s largely monotone, unfancy, old-fashioned American followers – those increasingly marginalized for not being in any way “the right sort of people”, characterized instead as hicks and moral degenerates. (Time Magazine, surprisingly, remains in such high dudgeon on this score as to urge the 65 million Hillary voters not to pay their taxes); 2) the hand-selected partial recounts (the results of which, so far, disconcertingly favor Trump, the villain); and 3) the fact that, aside from the baked-in uncertainty of who hacked what, Hillary leads substantially in the announced nationwide popular vote (unless you subtract the vote from either just one particular golden state or a mere four metropolitan counties in New York).
And what of the larger vote total nationwide for Hillary? Shouldn’t that count for something? Answer: it all depends on the ground rules under which the election was conducted, which, by the way, happen to be ensconced in the Constitution, and were accepted without reservation by both major parties and all candidates from the start. Analogous to the American way of scoring football, the way to score victory in a presidential election requires that, to win the available electoral votes of a state (that number based on the number of Representatives and Senators that state is allotted, due to its population), you must win a majority (or a plurality if there are more than two candidates on the ballot in the state) to add to your electoral vote count. And the winner must end up with, all told, at least 270 electoral votes.
Remarkably, as avid and at times crazy as American football fans are, no one ever seems to complain on principle when even their favorite team advances the ball 99.9999 yards downfield, only to score no points because it failed to traverse the last quarter of an inch to cross the goal line (that is, to score a 6-point touchdown or kick a 3-point field goal in lieu. Because, the score of the game doesn’t directly reflect the amount of yardage gained, but rather the number of points amassed by completing scoring drives over the normal sixty minutes of play.
But, if you do want to change the nature of the game by having the victory go instead to the team racking up the most yardage in the allotted time or, analogously, by collecting the most popular votes in total from the fifty states and DC, there are rules applicable to making that sort of change – for next time.
The moral of all this? Hurry up and get over it! Because, as someone once said, “we are stronger together”.