I’ve been thinking a lot about politics today. More accurately, I’ve been thinking about policy and government and democracy. Donald Trump will be our president soon, and he is a cancer. If there is a dirtier man who has been our president, I would have a hard time hearing out the argument on who it would be.
Imagine if Franklin Roosevelt had kept lucrative real estate interests in Germany and if Japanese banks held millions of dollars in loans involved with his businesses. Imagine if those things had affected his judgment at the important times in history. We have such a man now, and I am terrified we will all be at the mercy of his judgment should history come calling. Greed, ego, narcissism: these are his primary attributes.
It is apparently very easy for the world to turn surreal and go to shit. Like all madmen who gain power, our fear is not as much for the man himself as the people who cast away rational thought to support him.
All of this weighs heavy on me today. My writing, the scenes I was preparing, devolved into cynicism and despair. I’m not sure that will be a bad thing upon reviewing it later. But it was an odd experience today. The technical aspects of writing were unsettling, as if the variation in sentence structure was not coming from me. Maybe it’s the same writing as always, the same rhythm and flow, but I am different today.
I got most of chapter 39 done. There were slow parts and parts where the words flew from that magical place and barely passed through my consciousness before appearing on the page. I see the end of the book now clearly. The long delay on whether it will be bittersweet or hopeful is becoming clear, though I am honestly still undecided which it will be.
Words written today: 1,303
Total for this manuscript: 91,554
Total for 2017: 10,746