Trump is not a dictator, as some claim. He pretends to be one, but he’s only a figurehead—a clown who reigns but does not rule, an old-fashioned lord of misrule.
Most of our presidents have been figureheads who reigned but did not rule, though not all were lords of misrule. Most pretended to govern. But what does governing mean in a society composed of masters and slaves?
Masters pretend they govern their slaves instead of merely exploiting them, and slaves pretend they’re governed, not merely exploited. Thus both are able to keep their self-respect. But eventually this charade ends, and then the slaves must rebel. Not because they finally wake to the truth, as some claim—they’ve always known the truth—but because when masters become confident their slaves will never rebel, they stop pretending to govern. Slaves must then rebel in order to keep their self-respect.
No one is fit to govern others. Most of us find it difficult enough to govern ourselves. We endure being governed by others by pretending our masters are our superiors, more competent to govern us than we are. When they demonstrate their incompetence, we have no choice but to rebel. But what does rebellion mean when society is still composed of masters and slaves?
Our earliest societies celebrated a holiday, usually during the winter solstice, when the world died and was reborn. During the interregnum, masters and slaves traded places and the slaves elected a lord of misrule. But when the sun returned, order was restored. All returned to their proper places, and the slaves' lord was killed.
Freedom, for slaves, has always been only a dream. It’s too late now for us to wake up and stop being slaves.
Why am I thinking about this? I should be thinking about important things while I still can think.
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