I vowed when I went to bed Tuesday and it looked bleak for our side that I would cut off all my friends who gloated at me when the jerk won and I would disengage from all politics and work hard for good in my community and be kinder to all living things and healthier in mind and body and, of course, drink less.
I also promised, to no one in particular and not right out loud, that I would not gloat if somehow our guy managed to win. Well, he somehow did, and I somehow felt little obligation to keep my promise.
It was pointed out to me, by my friend Steve, that we still have to get through 73 days of a nihilist running the country.
“What does ‘nihilist’ even mean?” I asked.
“Look it up,” he said. “I had to.”
Lexicographical digression:
I guessed, correctly as it turned out, that a nihilist is someone who practices nihilism.
nihilism (Webster’s New Twentieth Century Dictionary, Unabridged, Second Edition, p. 1,212): 1. In philosophy, (a) the denial of the existence of any basis for knowledge or truth; (b) the general rejection of customary beliefs in morality or religion. 2. In politics, the doctrine that all social, political, and economic institutions must be completely destroyed to make way for new institutions.
nihilism (Grey Goatee Global Golf Dictionary, Unhinged and Unabashed, First and Only Edition, p. 14): 1. One of those “-isms” that nobody can define or ever looks up; 2. Nothing; 3. A word that sounds impressive over cocktails.
Our guy somehow managed to win over the nihilist (see how cool that sounds?) in the White House. I, like many people I know, mainly felt relief, in my case because I don’t have to keep the vows I made if he hadn’t won and I can stay my regular slothful self.
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