I would bet that one of the most overused hashtags currently used in social media is “#relationshipgoals.”  If you scroll through FaceBook and Instagram, you are guaranteed to see a picture of a famous couple doing something fabulous under the tagline “relationshipgoals.”

 

The pictures are nice; but we know that these pictures just capture a good moment between a couple who have problems like the rest of us.  I don’t want their relationship.  Over the years, I’ve had it, most likely.

No, I want the kind of love where someone will love me without any conditions.  I ain’t never had a love like that.  Let me do some dumb shit: my momma would’ve turned me in.  If there is a reward—my husband is dialing the crime line.  If the crime I committed is embarrassing, my kids are out.  And as for my friends—well—I have a few who would help me bury a body or rob a bank, but I do think that they would also judge me harshly.

No, I have concluded that my real relationshipgoal is the one seen between Trump and his followers. Think about it:   Trump’s followers don’t give a flying fuck what Trump does.  Blindly, passionately –they stand by his side.  Now THAT”S LOVE.

At the beginning of his campaign, Trump stated, “I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose voters.”  An outrageous statement that turned out to be true.  Indeed, it now appears to be an understatement.  Obviously, Trump can do whatever he wants and he is not going to lose many of his supporters.

Why?

Does Trump represent the last hope of a people, who have watched the world—a world in which they used to be in power—begin to change?  Have they been becoming increasingly stressed when the Muslim family moved into the yellow 4-bedroom house in the best street in their neighborhood, or when two Black kids joined their son’s Boy Scout troop, or when a co-worker invited them to his wedding where he was marrying his same-sex partner, or when they would call customer service and be asked if they wanted Spanish or English, or when a Black man won the presidency of the United States?

I can empathize a bit. Who wants to lose power?  Hell, when I got downgraded from Platinum to Gold status with my airline mileage plan and could no longer get better seating, I was upset.  I missed those extra 6 inches of leg space, getting on the plane earlier than the riff-raff (I’m joking), and not having to worry if there was going to be room for my carry-on.  I liked the benefits that my elevated mileage privilege gave me; but I also liked feeling “superior.”   I’m not proud of it, but it’s true if I’m honest.

So, I can’t even imagine how many White folks, particularly White men have been in a state of panic, as this world is changing (not fast enough for some of us, but too fast for the privileged). Desperate people pray for heroes—someone to save the day.

In walks Trump: bold and seemingly unafraid to take out the enemies and return life to how it should be.  His craziness and lack of respect for order and authority only seems to bolster their confidence that they can take their world back—by any means necessary.  They don’t particularly care if the world is damaged or destroyed during this war—as long as they win—as long as they are in full power again.

And Trump, with is inflated ego, loves the adoration.  He loves being treated as this maverick leader who is going to save Whitemankind.  Trump and his supporters feed off of each other like the devil in hell.  Each cannot exist without the other and neither cares who else gets burned.

 

 

 

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