I feel no glee, no gloating, over this win. To be proven
right by the events of history is a shallow victory. Knowing some that I love
chose poorly, not because they picked the losing side, but because they continue to embrace it and rally to the side
of hate. Knowing that by their poor choice, they are condemned.
It's not in their one bad choice that their fate has been
sealed, but that in the face of mounting evidence, with each egregious assault
on decency, morality, and humanity, they continue to choose, again and again,
the side of hate.
They embraced, rationalized, and justified the evil words
and deeds. They still do, even when there is no lingering question of the nature of the
side to which they rally, what side of history they've chosen. When redemption
offers itself, they cast themselves further into the fire.
The term "hollow victory" is no longer a stale
expression, cliché. I am
hollow, empty inside. Devoid of the hope and certainty that good people will
chose goodness. Ripped from within, torn asunder, the truth exposed. That those
good people, deep down, are not. The lie of perception--the misperception: because
I love them, they are good--is no more.
I feel no glee, no gloating over choosing what is right.
Only pain and sorrow. For my loss, for their hatred, for a country torn apart by
those who praise evil, who willingly follow evil. Sorrow for those who
don't retreat from the one who has exposed their veneer of goodness for what it
is. Who don't renounce, but stand--by choice--with evil.
