In the most fractious time in American history, Abraham Lincoln said, “I am an optimist because I don't see the point in being anything else.” A few days ago, in times that are in rhetoric if not yet cannon fire a runner up to Lincoln’s era, Kevin McCarthy expressed the same sentiment on the eve of his eviction as Speaker of the House.
I’ve never considered the philosophical roots of my own optimism, it’s just the way I am. When cause for pessimism growls, I start looking for a way to get past the monster without getting eaten. In that way, optimism is more than just a state of mind, it’s a survival mechanism for spotting and avoiding danger.
Lately, the growling is pretty loud. And the path to a safe exit isn’t obvious.
Trump. MAGA. Or, if you prefer, the commie Democrat party. Whatever side you’re on, it’s pretty obvious that the battle has now devolved into partisan trench warfare. We’ve got everything but barbed wire and mustard gas. Remind me, how did that work out in WW I? In our Civil War (still called the Lost Cause by many in the South) how many boys were carried home to die in their mother’s arms? How many more died in an anonymous ditches?
Well, A. Lincoln preserved the Union, so maybe he was justified in his optimism, for the life of the Union, if not his own. Maybe a modern Lincoln will pull us together. And maybe there won’t have to be bloodshed this time.
But we got dangerously close on January 6, 2021. If Trump gets back in the oval office, I’m confident he won’t leave. Just as Hitler insisted that the good people of Austria cried out to him for liberation from the Jews, when it comes time for him to leave, Trump will bellow that American patriots demand that he declare martial law and remain in office to save the country.
When Meg and I walk along the shore at the end of the day, we often pause to watch the fiery ball that gives us warmth and life slide into the sea. It sinks slowly at first, almost imperceptibly. At the end, though, it goes fast. And in a blink, it's gone.
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