Frankie Takes On: Politics

Or: You’ve Got That Post-Election Feelin’

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National elections have come to a close and because of the heat, the free Facebook, and the huge chunk of voting millennials, everyone’s bound to have broken a few friendships along the way. In the year 2016, the year of computers and the internet, people have become more vicious and more hostile about their chosen candidates. Trolls spread that black propaganda like it was rotten cheese, people with no time for Wikipedia-length analyses shared the rumors, while the rest of us countered with arguments the trolls didn’t want to read.

All in all, it was a pretty eventful election season.

 

But hey, at least the youth got involved, huh? And ain’t no better sign of progress in a developing country than angry, vocal youths on the internet.

Unless, of course, the youths get involved for the most off-base of reasons.

There are the idiots who, for some unbelievable, fucked-up reason, think that Martial Law in the Philippines was a good thing. The guys voting out of fear and hate for the lower class, who think going for the misogynistic “Trump of the East” will help solve the nation’s problems. Out-of-touch people who are okay with the status quo and throw their lot with the government everyone else is so mad at.

Everyone’s coming from somewhere – but try to show them a different way, and everyone loses their shit.

Is this the revolution my generation is fated to be a part of?

By the time we elect our next President, I’ll be thirty years old and no longer considered a disenfranchised youth. Instead, I’ll be a disenfranchised older person, with all of the cynicism and none of the energy to do anything about it. No wonder then that I’m neck-deep invested in the results of these elections and everything else that comes after.

This is history in the making, baby, and we’re all a part of it now. All that talk they fed us in school about changing the country and making a real, solid difference? This moment is it. We’re finally given our green light to get out and get involved. We’ve been given the keys to drive this country forward. They’ve handed us the pens to write the next chapter of our society.

And this is how we repay our ancestors: by almost electing the son of a dictator for the Vice Presidency.

This is some real surreal shit right here, and I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t get chills seeing the results come in real-time last night.

We were given our chance and we almost threw it away.

So much for that revolution.

But someone up there is looking out for us and must have decided we were worth saving, so now, Dictator, Jr. is losing the race and demanding a re-count. Cue the angry protests of his supporters, flinging the nastiest things at everyone who doesn’t agree with them.

You can’t let the insults bother you, though. It’s sweet to see stupid people flail around for counter-arguments to keep the debate going, before throwing a hissy fit and unfriending you on Facebook. Witnessing that moment up-close gives you the most gratifying feeling, that you almost want to gloat like Action Bronson: “Speak clearer, dear, ’cause I can’t hear ya.” Or maybe try to at least come up with arguments worth acknowledging.

Nah. Don’t let the insults faze you. If anything, it should be an honor to get insulted. See, getting insulted’s the final step the stupids take before realizing that they’re all out of things to throw at you. It’s the last dirty tactic they’ll resort to before leaving the discussion, so they can still look like a winner even if they’ve already lost from the start. No way you can let that kind of shit get to you.

What should be bothering you, is that a lot of these kids are so ignorant that they willingly ignore some of the most basic facts. Facts like real history in history books. Facts like hard, cold numbers and data that prove their glorious theories wrong. Facts, like actual testimonies from our parents who lived through that dark moment in time.

It’s almost insulting to be even associated with this age class, but there’s hardly anything you can do about the age you were born in. There’s no changing what you were born with, after all. Game of Thrones taught me that.

However, there’s nothing stopping you from doing something with yourself and defying the norms. Nothing wrong with trying to make something of yourself with your own two hands, age limit be damned. Game of Thrones taught me that too.

See, ma? It’s not just about people screwing each other in a castle. Sometimes, there’s life lessons too and the occasional dragon sighting, if we’re lucky.

But the elections are over now. Only thing left to do is wait for the official results to come out, and do whatever we can to help the country move forward.

This is the revolution we’re a part of now. The revolution we’re destined for. The revolution we helped create.

It’s a new day, fellow millennials.

Let’s get out there and make it a good one.

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