Get the Fog Outta Here

I have become this morning’s weather.

When I woke up, I looked out my window to see what our Colorado climate had come up with for the day. There was a low-hanging fog on the grass, floating and swaying and swelling and churning. It was beautiful for some, eerie for others. By the time I stepped out of the building to make my trek to West Campus, the fog had risen and traveled on, but it had left a chill behind, one that sunk into my skin and slowed my heartbeat and set a perfect tone for the encounters I’d have on my way.

As Joe Biden is here this morning, political minds are tinkling all about campus. Such were the conversations I overheard during the, say, fifteen minutes I was outside. For my first few steps from Wiebking Hall to the 10th Avenue intersection, I was in a fine mood, optimistic for the day and delighted that my first class had been canceled in honor of the VP candidate’s presence. Then I got to the curb. A kid was talking to his friend, a girl with big earrings and a puffy coat. He had one white earbud in his ear, the other hanging to the side to share his blaring rap music with the world. The tongues of his sneakers were enormous and free-flopping, and I could’ve de-pants’d the kid right then and there. I didn’t. The girl didn’t say an audible word the whole time we stood waiting for the little white man to illuminate and tell us the coast was clear to cross, but the guy monologued nonstop for the solid two minutes we lingered. He called his female friend a “huge douche bag,” said his weekend was “off the chain,” and dropped at least 20 F-bombs. I tried to zone him out, a tactic I often use when obnoxious people interfere with my joy, but I couldn’t help but overhear one thing he said in a most serious tone: “In Obama we trust.”

My jaw and stomach dropped in tandem. Here everyone is making jokes about how the media thinks Obama is Messiah, how deified this man has been in recent months, and this kid goes and proves everyone right. He took an American motto, extracted God, and put Barack Obama in his place. The issue here is not of Obama’s trustworthiness, but of his mortality. He is not God. He is not a god. Neither he himself nor his congregation should paint him as such. I’ve seen bumper stickers reading, “I already have a Savior, I’m looking for a President.” Is that what some Obama voters are? Lost souls in need of a Messiah, unable to differentiate between running for office and being almighty? And what I worry is that if people exalt this man, they will be able to see no fault in him. He will be free to do whatever he chooses, because God will never choose unwisely. This is a frightening, uncontrolled government.

I shook off this feeling as I climbed up and down the hill by the UC. I went down the stairs into what I fondly refer to as the Rape Tunnel and, as I walked alone, I was free to observe all the messy graffiti therein. The white wall to my left read “Obama,” then further down, “Hope.” Great, I thought, I want to elect the man supported by vandals. But I lived with it. I looked to my right, though, and saw that someone had written “Fear” exactly opposite “Hope,” and it got me to thinking: We are in the middle of something huge.

This is a pivotal election for the future of my country. The same man who inspires hope in the hearts of half the nation evokes fear in the others’ guts. At a time when I thought we were all looking for unity, we are instead going to swear in a guy whose policies alienate 150 million people. No one is listening to each other, our ideas have become more polarized than ever, and there is hatred flying back and forth all the time. Because this man we’re electing (yes, I have accepted McCain’s defeat) is so one-sided, I predict he will only further this rift. We are going to stop allowing coexistence. We are going to reach civil war.

You may not fear Obama’s platform as I do, but I would think you might at least fear this division. United we stand, divided we fall, right? So why are you aiding the wedge?

America is in a fog. It’s not affecting any one particular party or set of beliefs; we are all being consumed by it. The chill has slowed all of our heart rates, and we’re reacting at a snail’s pace to things that should be slapping us to attention. Maybe it’s too late to change the vote, but I can still aim to make sure everyone is awake and observant for the next four years. If we keep sleeping through the static here, we’re going to wake up to our ruin.