Without the dark there isn’t light
Contrast of the bright and hues
When fate returns to claim its dues
Projected thoughts into the eyes
Imagined so they must be lies
Might be there, but is out of sight

–Simon

Tales from Easement Acres
Without the dark there isn’t light
Contrast of the bright and hues
When fate returns to claim its dues
Projected thoughts into the eyes
Imagined so they must be lies
Might be there, but is out of sight

–Simon
385 words, 2 minutes read time.
Now that I’m 40, I’ve done some reflecting. In all, I don’t have too many complaints when I really think about it. I mean, America’s golden age – at least in recent history and the era we still seem to consider the gold standard (hehe) – was the 1950s and 60s, and a time in which the war and postwar generations saw large economic growth.
Just look at those GDP spikes, compared to 2007, when I entered the workforce full time! Sure there were some recessions, and the Boomers still whine about how bad interest rates were in 1980 (and how so many of them were almost drafted for The Vietnam War), but look at the growth recovery following each of those events, compared to the 2008 Great Recession.
Inflation and rising interest rates:
Inflation and oil energy dependency:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Early_1980s_recession_in_the_United_States
Unsustainable and predatory financial lending practices:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2007%E2%80%932008_financial_crisis
And studies which I won’t bother to cite because you have a search engine too have long mockingly laughed at my generation’s plight, as those who enter the workforce in a recession are doomed to never make much money. And yet, here Liz and I sit, apparently as 12%-ers. And also apparently I’ll be a multi-millionaire at retirement according to projections. And like most of my generation, I normally don’t discuss my financial situation, because we just don’t want to get into it with a boomer. But sometimes I think it’s healthy to brag about one’s accomplishments and this one in particular is contrary to everything I was told was going to happen, thanks to boomer generational masturbatory article headlines (“Your kids are lazy and won’t get a job and they’re moving back home to take your money”).
But I started off on a tangent. I meant to post some cheap laughs at becoming older, but I’m apparently so adversarialy positive about my situation that I got distracted with everything good that’s happened on my journey to becoming middle-aged.
Oh well. Fodder for my next post I suppose, since I’m almost hitting 400 words here! Next time – how long it takes to grow out a damaged fingernail! Woo!
–Simon
As one of the many confused participants of the American democracy, I never quite understood how Trump was ever allowed to exist. Sure, I understand humanity’s history is rife with political leaders who embody despotism, but even with our collectively short memory, the names are not forgotten, nor do they fail to invoke derision: Mao, Castro, Mussolini, and of course Hitler.
So when Trump entered the political scene, who very openly possessed similar personality traits, I thought (incorrectly) that he simply just couldn’t be. How did he happen?
To seek an answer, I dug around on American political affiliations and voting habits, and was delighted to find a deeper analysis beyond “left” and “right”. It also helped bring me some personal closure to my own non-affiliated voting preferences, categorizing myself nicely as…

(The Pew study I’m referencing, as summarized by NPR, can be found here: https://www.npr.org/2021/11/09/1053929419/feel-like-you-dont-fit-in-either-political-party-heres-why
In the article is also a link to the quiz, but I’ll post here for convenience: https://www.pewresearch.org/politics/quiz/political-typology/)
Here’s what that says about me, according to the Pew study:
I’d say that’s fairly close to what I expected: a slightly right-leaning independent. (Though my father often accuses me of being some ultra-right Republican loyalist. I guess, in comparison to his own political views, that’s how he would see me in comparison.)
More importantly, it means I can be swayed and do not vote out of a political ideology, nor do I worship an individual candidate. So for the main point of this post, this means that of all the conservative categories that would unquestioningly vote for Trump, I would be the one who might or might not. In theory, I wouldn’t be locked in by association. Why is this important? Because when adding the population percentages for each political category, even if the Republican candidate had all votes from the Ambivalent Right, he would still only have 40% of the popular vote. That may be enough, given that some of the Stressed Sideliners in the middle might vote for him, and with the electoral college ultimately making the final vote (which of course doesn’t require popular majority). But you can’t lose many of the Ambivalent Right with a margin that small. It’s a group that has to be swayed, and wasn’t swayed enough in the 2020 election, but was formerly swayed in 2016. I’m the group that makes the determination.
So what would it take to sway someone like myself who’s in this category? Let’s look at Trump as the individual.
In all of Trump’s monologues he juxtaposes questionable figures next to facts, presumably to give the illusion of association. It’s pseudo data, the inaccuracies of which quickly rule them out as having any grounds in reality.
Okay, so he can’t provide believable figures. What does he say he stands for then? Generally, everything that’s a soundbite for the right. But for the Ambivalent Right, that’s not necessarily a list of everything we want. In fact, much of it is not what we want. Therefore, it comes down to a comparison of candidates, and which one aligns better with personal political policy beliefs.
But there’s also a more basic human element to consider. Aside from being Republican, Trump’s primary “appeal” has been the “Fuck you!” attitude. I’ll explain why this is important, but first – a quick history lesson on feminism and American policy changes:
The Rift
During the second world war women were wholesale brought into the workforce for the war effort and gained a new financial independence.
No-fault divorce became available, famously in the form of its poster child: Reno, NV.
Women gained sexual freedom with contraceptive availability. Marriage and the nuclear family were no longer prerequisites to a woman’s sexual satisfaction.
The Equal Pay act went into effect which, in theory, mandated equal pay for women and equal availability of all job types.
The Equal Credit Opportunity Act was enacted and then women could obtain credit individually, further gaining financial independence.
This is obviously a very compressed timeline, but the point is that in the span of ~30 years, women became, at least on paper, the equals of men and guaranteed all the rights and privileges thereof.
The Pandering
But then things got nasty. With this demographic now financially established and making their own decisions, it only followed naturally that media, advertising, and policies shifted to earn their previously unexploited patronage.
Peaking in the 1990s, based on my own experiences anyway, media and advertisements adopted the script of husband = idiot/wife = knows everything. The world of men was now being taught that they couldn’t function independently themselves and needed women, while women didn’t need men.
More empirically, college enrollment and graduation rates shifted to become overwhelmingly dominated by women (I challenge you to dig into these discussions and avoid a flame war).
Companies and governments started employing varying policies on mandating female percentages of board members and executive positions.
Incarcerations rates of men became approximately 10X that of women.
80% of custodial divorcees are now women.
The Pushback
This is, admittedly, just a small portion of the recent gender narrative and lacks much of depth of study required to truly vet its anthropological implications. But a cursory glace would show that:
The Contemporary Themes
So How is This Related to Trumpism?
Here’s my theory. As stated before, only 1 of the 4 conservative groups is not pro-Trump. This group must have voted for Trump or he would not have been elected. But they don’t like Trump. Nor do they like most of the far-right that he represents. They like moderate-right, which is what Obama was, which is why Obama was elected. But they had to have voted for Trump or he wouldn’t have had sufficient votes. What happened?
This is where we return to the “Fuck you!” human element.
No moderate conservative would disagree with sexual egalitarianism being a bad thing. But the resultant pandering to women and subsequent steady disenfranchisement of men created…feelings. And unchecked feelings can cause bad decisions. Like Trump. It became personal. One too many conversations with a Progressive Left – one too many condescending comments from the elitist left – one too many accusations of privilege, when the workforce had just dug itself out of the Great Recession and employment opportunities were finally starting to improve, by a judgy and leftist younger population less impacted by the economic climate.
Trump was an opportunity to teach the far left a lesson. It was “Fuck you!”
My theory is that large numbers of right-leaning moderate men finally had enough. The irritation with the left overcame their rational political side and emotional decisions overcame reason. And this what when the political opponent in the election was a far-left liberal woman, the very personification of the elitist and condescending left!
I’m not saying that I voted or will vote for Trump, but on some level, I do understand his appeal. And that’s a very strange thing for me, an Ambivalent Right, to admit.
–Simon
It’s hard to make a pithy rhyme off that, but I’m trying to poke some fun at the redneck-right and their attempts to appropriate Independence Day. A communal holiday celebrated via explosive displays which, in theory, should be the quintessential melting pot of our national diverse cultures, is instead interrupted by white trash in Silveradoes and F-150s, adorned in home-made signs profoundly and profusely pontificating perversely on the perceived injustices of whichever Democratic politician has sparked their ire at that particular moment, all while ignorantly violating the flag code while they tow a Chinese-made Old Glory from their trailer hitch in the dark and rain.
Prior to home ownership, Liz and I lived in Kettering. I consider it to be generally working class, and until recently it resonated with our lifestyle. And even after moving to Centerville, Kettering seemed more welcoming. Their public service personnel, city events, and general means of living felt ubiquitously middle class. But recently, it’s become more hostile. Through either our own increasing economic means which disconnect us, or Covid’s impact on the broader community, it now feels…trashy. Maybe “dilapidated” is a better word, but I’m not obligated to be particularly magnanimous towards unpleasant people on my own blog.
Anyway – between that and the post-Covid lackluster fireworks trend, the kid losing interest in family outings, and the city deciding to develop the little hill we always parked on for the event – we stopped going.
Then Liz reserved a table at Centerville High School, directly adjacent to where the city hosts their own fireworks, along with a number of food trucks. And aside from the standard menagerie of douchebag teenagers that would be expected at a school-hosted event, the populous was remarkedly less trashy. Also buying a table helped. Yes – money grants privilege (and creates a redneck paywall).
I like money. It lets me avoid people I don’t like.
And our proximity to the fireworks themselves restored for a moment that small bit of magic we all used to feel as little kids. So much so, in fact, that I snapped nary a photo. But I did manage two to mark the event:


The pettiness in me will gloat at this change in circumstances. The aforementioned white trash who try to claim the holiday as their own and take the opportunity to shun those who they deem as lesser Americans are in this case themselves excluded due to a fundamental American value: The American Dream. They’re priced out of the community and the events it holds.
It turns out that we’re the true Americans, (along with the plethora of Indians and Asians present at the event with us who also figured out how to succeed in the American economy). And I didn’t even need to make a poster to feel self-righteous.
Happy 4th!
–Simon
There was a scene in The Ten Commandments that freaked me out as a kid. And I still think it’s delightfully creepy. It’s that last plague when the fog slowly infiltrates through the streets of Goshen and kills all first-borns, beginning with that spectral hand in the sky.

I think the creep factor was so perfectly visceral because for the first time in a series of unpleasant events, it gave a glimpse of God’s physical being, rather than just symbolic terror. My primitive human mind responds quicker to tugs on my evolutionary coding: monsters are amalgams of all the scary parts of animals that used to eat us. That’s what a dragon is. And the dragon exists in some form across all cultures. We fear things that appear to posses the ability to destroy our physical forms. And, I would say, rightfully so.
Anyway, as I was fogging for mosquitos, the lack of wind and barometric pressure created a similar experience. It was a cool picture.

It didn’t kill me, as I’m not a first-born. But I sure hope it killed more than the first-born mosquito from each clutch!
–Simon