Crowdsurf the Rage
Sorry, I can't hear you
My favorite thing about elections is the mass hysteria that surrounds them. Take that however you will. I’m being sincere and ironic.
I went and voted in Franklin Village yesterday, and then watched the (bad) results trickle in with the same ambient, noncommittal amusement with which I receive most pseudo-consequential information these days. But it’s been brought to my attention—viciously, vociferously, and unforgivingly—that I’m not like most people. There is nothing wrong with being vocally politically engaged, it’s just not something I’m interested in. Maybe it’s because so many other people are. I always feel better after speaking to friends of mine who work in politics, or whose work revolves around political organizing, in general, because their point-of-view tends to be rooted in a sort of world-weary, straightforward rationality. I was talking to my friend Amber, who succinctly brushed off my anxiety saying that the Los Angeles mayor is, generally speaking, constitutionally powerless. “L.A. has a horribly byzantine political system by design.” This clear-eyed attitude rests in opposition to the histrionics on social media, people who seem eager to betray their lack of bonafides or perspective via sheer volume and ferocity of nonstop mongering. To use my friend Greg’s favorite expression, it’s a full panic. And after the culturally destructive, artistically bankrupt, socially deleterious waves of righteous indignation that accompanied both Trump presidencies, I’m unfortunately noticing a disturbing pattern.
