The Disunited States of Reality TV

               Sunt aliquid Manes: letum non omnis finit
                     luridaque . . . effugit umbra rogos. - Sextus Propertius

Many of our friends – our allies – seem to believe it will all be over November 8. The victors will claim their rightful – righteous – spoils. The beaten will dig their holes and crawl into them; they will spend a considerable time licking their

Yes, that'll work.

wounds. Something like peace will reign – as if a season of Survivor had come to an end.

We confidently predict that will not be the case. And all the nasty, ad hominem attacks the righteous have visited and continue to visit upon the wicked will return to haunt them. The mockery will not be forgotten. It never is. Consult your own experience; righteous or wicked, being mocked the hardest thing to let go of.

We predict that our pleading with all to be kind, to love mercy and walk humbly, will not be heeded; more likely it will be hissed at from every side. We know we are crying, “Peace, peace!” where there is none.

So, we can most confidently predict that there will be none. It was bad enough when we were – who coined this phrase? – “the world’s largest banana republic.”* But it is much worse now we have become the Disunited States of Reality TV.

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  * "The shadows remain. Death does not end all;
               a pale ghost slips out of the ashes."  
** No offense to banana republics intended.