Mirriam Webster defines “dissonance” as:
a mingling of sounds that strike the ear harshly : a mingling of discordant sounds; especially, music : a clashing or unresolved musical interval or chord
I kept getting that fingernails-on-the-blackboard feeling caused by such a case of dissonance all day. It will only get worse as time goes on, I fear.
Even as I type it, a part of my brain just refuses to make sense of it. I’m not stupid, I know on a factual level that Donald Trump is legally the President of the United States tonight. But that phrase, “President Trump,” simply does not compute on a very visceral level.
Certain terms shouldn’t go together. “Pope Bubba.” “General Cuddles.” “Senator Blutarsky.”
That’s when I saw it. We have used that dissonance for humor and satire so often that we’re ill prepared for the day it became reality. When Bluto grabs Babs, steals the convertible, and exits the riot to cruise into the sunset, it’s hilarious to think that he eventually ends up as a US Senator.
Now there’s actually an ignorant, useless, undisciplined frat boy in the White House.
It’s time to rebuild and reinforce the values that are the basis for our society. It’s going to be a long, tough fight. But, as Brother Bluto said, “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?”