Any other week I maybe wouldn't feel so compassionate, toward the Fellowship, but I just spent the last 36 hours watching people driven mad, murderously mad, by their own racist, crazy stuff, whipped into a frenzy by powers that don't care about them, and know they're past caring if they even understand what's behind the fear. Health care is the new gay marriage. In some ways it's stupider -- mostly it's less stupid, because nothing is stupider than fighting about gay marriage -- but all of it acts on nothing approaching facts or common sense. The birthers, the deathers, they scream the most appalling imaginary things, and none of them can tell you why they're so angry: just that something precious is being taken away from them. And something is. I'm not denying that. Something precious is being taken away from these people, whether or not I agree with it. And that's sad; it makes me sad to think of what that must be like. It's super fucked up, but mostly it's scary and sad.
And part of me says, "You've finally opted out of the conversation altogether, and would prefer to sit in the corner and shit yourself, so we're going to ignore you while we fix the mess you made." And somebody said, "This is what the Democrats want: for birthers and deathers to shit themselves and act appalling, so that independents will flee left." And that was almost culpable, in fact: that the left would use that rhetoric knowing it would whip the useful idiots of the right into a hateful terrified frenzy. But then I remembered that we're adults, and no amount of rhetoric or editing can make somebody bring a gun to an appearance of the president. So now, I don't know. I've always touted the fact of a single America -- that Jason Stackhouse is your brother, that Luke and Steve and Sarah are your blood -- to justify my compassion, my conservative tendencies, to say that what we all have in common is so much greater than what we might not have in common. But this week has been hard, and I'm sorry.
The reason I was so excited about this show last summer was that it was literally about getting a front row seat in a culture in the midst of great, impossible, terrible and wonderful change. The Great Revelation created the Fellowship of the Sun; the roots of the Fellowship created the Great Revelation. But making that statement in the months before the election, knowing I was about to get a hot black president, was a much more self-satisfied statement than it is now. It's also about being front-row for somebody else's apocalypse. Bon Temps is scary. Dallas is scary. The whole world these people knew self-destructed two years ago, and they have only begun to go crazy about that. The vampires owed them better. We owe them better.