The United States of America is cursed, I think. It’s not some conjured enchantment placed on us by a global adversarial boogeyman; I say this less some in the US begin to believe and then think along the lines of retaliatory action and we know how easily people can gather such war-mongering notions.
No, the curse afflicting us is one of our own making. It comes complete with a storied talisman exhibited on our eastern shore, a stark reminder of the tenets of sacrifice that we should be upholding; should’ve always been upholding. See, it’s because of our backsliding that we’re cursed.
You can blame the forefathers for it, if you want; it’s their baby. Someone should’ve mentioned to them that doing things, particularly doing them in the name of God, or under God, bears its own level of responsibility. And woe be to those who, while evoking God’s name in all their accomplishments, act in a profoundly unchristian manner, as if it makes no difference in the world that they’re doing so. America’s founding fathers wrote eloquently a plan for a nation where all men were created equal and in the same breath, under God, established systems that treated them exactly as if they were not.
They slaughtered millions of indigenous people as America grew, all in the name of God, and at the same time, made themselves wealthy. They used slaves, indentured servants and sharecroppers to create empires, all to keep a certain class of man down while propping another one up. And when immigrants or freedmen did manage to gather wealth and could not be cheated out of it, they were simply killed or driven away. Africans, Jews, Italians, Asians and the Irish have all felt the sting of bigotry through the ages. This is United States History 101.
Today, as immigrant and refugee levels swell our country’s already tasked economy, the ideal that was the Utopian dream of revolutionists is continually being thrown in the waste bin. Maybe it was the election of the first African-American president, I’m thinking. But whatever the reason, America is beginning to give up. She is succumbing to the antithesis of the ideal that she still nevertheless thinks she is. And this opposite that threatens us is Bubba.
Bubba is not the fictitious good ole boy of Dukes of Hazzard fame. He’s something entirely different and far more troubling. When I look at Roy Moore, I see Bubba; a short-eyed grown man that has no problem in dating a family’s teenage daughter. He reminds me that Bubba has no finesse around women which leads him to have no respect for them. He is the ignoble yang against the moral and honorable yin. He is intolerant and mean, void of the commonality of decency that most of us try to aspire to.
Yes, that’s right; it’s the ideal I’m talking about! Unfortunately, it's a summit we've failed to conquer and now, Bubba has relinquished it for his own gain or pleasure and beckons the nation to do the same. In truth, Bubba never really believed in or truly bought into the notion of this idyllic America. Rather, Bubba has always been about his own agenda; his basic wants and desires. And the really scary part is something we’ve discovered recently. Bubba is trending. Bubba can be elected president.
Another scary thing to consider: what does all of this say to our children? Are we creating an entire generation of Bubba’s and those he preys upon? Will our next generation of men be the types who know how to treat a lady or simply be a ragtag bunch of pussy-grabbers? My mother always admonished me to never forget about the women in our family and that doing so should help me to always respect the gender. It’s a lesson I passed on to my son. But nobody is teaching Bubba and, did I say that was scary?