The political divide in this country has never been more extreme. Americans have been siloed into two opposing groups with no seemingly little hope to ever bridge that gap. Our family, like many others, have spent the last few years at each other’s throats while debating every aspect of domestic politics. For our own sanity, we made a conscious decision to collectively ban its discussion inside our sacred home as it was destroying the fabric of our lives. But the disadvantage of turning down that discourse is our house is so quiet we can hear our lame neighbor Glen attempting to play guitar and it makes me want to jam a fork into my ear drums.
There’s only one thing more frightening than reading about the possibility that voting for one political party will lead us into World War III, while voting for the other will usher in an elected dictator who’ll strip us of our rights, and that’s Glen trying to play “Smoke on the Water” for the millionth time. Like dude, music isn’t for everyone, please stop. We beg you. At least with total nuclear annihilation, we can hope for a quick death which is more than we can say having to listen to Glen.
Our kids finally convinced us to stop obsessing over party politics because they claimed we spent more time fighting than “taking care of their essential needs.” If that’s what they want, fine—but now I guess we’ll just have to spend each night silently sitting around the dinner table with nothing to say to each other, while being forced to listen to Fuckface next door, absolutely murdering his Gibson.
As we approach what many experts are saying will be the most important election of our lifetime, it’s important to filter out the voices who are hellbent on dividing us as a nation and try to unify, otherwise everything we hold dear may crumble and disappear.
But hey, if our worst fears are realized and 2024 becomes known as the year fascism finally takes hold in this country, maybe they’ll outlaw supposed artists like Glen and send him to a re-education camp in North Dakota, which might be a reasonable concession to never having to hear to his so-called power chords again.