Between Popcorn and Soda Breaks: A True American Tragedy

     They say the 2nd American civil war started cooking in May this year. I think it started cooking with Obama. If only for the reason that having Obama as president was so shockingly radical; that in itself created fault lines in the foundation of American civilization that were never going to be undone, anyway. Replacing Obama with Trump was an event that flung the American people from one extreme to its polar opposite extreme; an act which can cause mental instability from the small individual scale, to the large national scale.

     At this point, the rest of the world was heavily invested in US politics, thanks to Obama collecting so much international fanfare that people in Portugal, France and Australia felt like they had a say in American politics, too. People in Vietnam, South Africa and Cayman Islands felt like they needed to have a voice in American politics, too. For the first time, the American president (Obama) was the world's president! And when the Democrats lost to Trump, the world hated America, which has led to a considerable amount of pressure on American citizens. Being tossed into the heaviness of international scrutiny was sudden and was forced.

     Civil war has been inevitable since those points of no return. It's a sudden and violent collective shift in culture and sentience as a country, which is the root of the incredibly great divide that we see today. Meanwhile, the rest of the world does not truly CARE, but, like how we care about our favourite t.v. characters on Netflix, we continue to watch on with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of soda. It's a tragedy, it really is.

     America, and the American people, should have never needed to shoulder the burden of a global audience demanding that their own wishes for US president be validated, that their own Obama fantasies be honoured. It is the American people now who suffer as a result. Not the Portuguese, not the Australians. Not the French. It is the American who suffers. Thanks to a president who shook the world just because of the colour of his skin. A paradigm-changing president who perhaps came along way too soon for the nation to handle. Or for the world to respect enough to simply appreciate and then honour enough to let alone.

     The United States of America is a baby nation. A small child nation. Hundreds of years younger than many other Western nations. And yet, when has Spain had a black president? When has Portugal had a black president? When have the French elected a black president? When have any of these older Western countries elected a black leader? And yet they cajoled and pushed the toddler to the frontlines, "You think you can do it? Go ahead and show us how it's done!" Something that they themselves were not ready to do.

     The United States has done, within a timeframe less than half the timeframe of many other Western countries, what those other nations have not dare done. Cajoled and challenged into biting off far more than she can chew, like an egotistical child, she bites the bait each time, and chokes on it.

     The truth is, no Western nation was ready for a black president and they all knew that. When America did what nobody else could, they turned the first black US president into their favourite mascot at the circus: they wanted to take pictures with him and host dinners for him. They wanted to make him theirs. But they wouldn't elect their own. That was not respect, that was not honour. That was sheer enjoyment. But it is only the American commoner who is left to clean up after the boxes and the candy wrappers are scattered all over the ground on the carnival floor.

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