Conservative Beer Goggles for 45: A Disturbing Tale of Toxic Chosenness

Rebecca Romo
11 min readJan 10, 2021

The murderer came up to you at the party
```Frothy cold beer in hand and said,
`````` “You are clearly thirsty.”
````````` “Drink from my cup.”

Though you do not drink, his offer was tempting….
```the beverage so cool on your tongue.
``````You asked, “Just one more sip?”
`````````as the golden drops brought relief to your body.

“I have been so thirsty,” you confessed.

The murderer smiled, gently caressing your cheek
``` as he summoned the waiter to bring you another.
`````` He whispered close to your ear, “You are so beautiful.”
````````` “Only I see how beautiful you are.”

The murderer waited and watched
```the golden stream now entering your cells.
`````` Your body loosened and lightened,
````````` worn from holding everything in so tight…

He said, “Doesn’t that feel good?” as his hand moved a little higher on your thigh.

It did.
He spoke truth.

Before your mind could find words to caution his touch,
```your body spoke.
``````A pleasurable wave rode up through your core.
`````````You caught your breath.
````````````Taught to deny such pleasure,
```````````````a twinge of conflict pinched at your being.

He saw the brief flicker of concern in your eye
```And ordered another round.

Before you could speak, his finger pressed on your lips —
```“Shhhhhh….don’t speak…” he said softly,
``````knowing to not yet put his lips to yours.
`````````Weary from the day, and seeking relief,
````````````you leaned in ever so slightly.
```````````````His lips grazed your ear, his breath tickled your neck.
``````````````````“I know just what you need.”

He gave a summoning snap of his fingers.

He said, “I have all the answers, you know.”
```“I will take care of you.”

A new round arrived.

Chaste in your actions,
```forever fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing,
`````````you felt lost in this new world where he assured
````````````no harm could reach you,
```````````````overwhelmed by his liquid-laced promise.

Could he be… The One???

As his body turned, he guided you toward the exit,
```and in the haze of hope and hops,
``````you barely noticed how your feet were less certain on the ground,
`````````how the world seemed to spin for just a minute,
````````````and your eyes strained to make out clear lines.

He did keep you safe on the way back to his shining city on the hill.

```````````````````He kept his promise.
```````````````````He took care of you.

He guided you past bullet casings, avoiding Route 91.
He guided you past schools with chalk outlines of bodies, kids huddled up inside.
He guided you past the border box store, northern synagogue, and a southern church.
He guided you quickly by the white cross shrines where so many more had died.

He walked you past terminals with shrouded ones denied entry.
He walked you past Tiki Torches and cars plowing into crowds.
He walked you past iron gates, small hands grasping for “Mama.”
He walked you past freezer cars full of someone else’s sorrow.

When you turned your clouding gaze to look, he shielded your vision.
“Don’t look my child,” he said.
``` “Your eyes need not see. “
`````` “I will see for you.”
````````` “I will lead the way.”
```````````````And he handed you a travel mug full of golden glory.

And as the streets grew more crowded,
``` full of multi-toned masked ones, gathered in fear, dismay, and rage
`````````shouting name,
```````````````upon name,
`````````````````````upon name,
```````````````````````````upon name.

```````````````````He cleared a path for you.

He spoke not to the desperate crowds nor the pleading voices nor comforted the sorrowed.

He only spoke to you.

He told you they would harm you — WE would harm you — without him.
``````You believed him.
````````````After all, he chose You.
``````````````````You were his most precious.
````````````````````````He spoke only to you.

From your groggy state, it felt right.
```You needed his sight.
```````You needed his arms to guide you through — to lift you up — and over.
`````````````How blessed you were that he found you.

He found you.
```He chose you.
``````He (only) took care of you.

The murderer brought militia, tear gas, and rubber bullets to bare.
He cheered on vigilantes, and ordered nameless armies and unmarked vans
```for his cause.
``````An AR toting teen heard his call and drove in to assist.
`````````All for you. Just for you. He brought them in just for you.

One shot. Two.

The fire-cracker pops pierced through your haze, and you startled.

He comforted you and said,
``````“It had to be done.”
``````“They would have harmed you my child.”

This was HIS law.
HIS order.
HIS plan from on high.

He said, “I’m so glad I could save you. “
“I’m so glad you have me.”

With your eyes now too heavy to open,
```And the ground too uneven to walk,
``````And as the world spun and spun around you,
`````````He kept his promise.

He lifted you past flooded homes and destroyed power grids — tossing paper towels as he passed.
He lifted you over pipes full of lead, chemical rivers, and through thickening air.
He lifted you over the wounded, the ill, the disabled, and the captured.
He lifted you over dark bodies in the street — knees left on one’s neck for too long.

He even lifted you past the long lines of intention
```standing hour upon hour
``````risking it all
````````````praying just to be counted.

Under his breath he spitefully muttered, as he walked you right on by,
````````` “Disgusting” and “Nasty.”
``````````````` “Loser” and “Sucker.”
`````````````````````` “Monster” and “Lame.”

He cast as shitholes their shanties and mocked their limps as they walked.
He wrapped himself in Old Glory
``````````````` for HIS glory
````````````````````````` (and Yours.)

While the pace brought discomfort, your faith in him grew.
Why open your eyes? They were so heavy and strained.
Why open your ears? The cacophony of sounds hurt your head.
Why open at all to the struggle and pain,
`````` to hardship, and anger, and loss uncontained?

The complex overwhelms. Leaves the spirit adrift.
And the chosen choose one.
So you chose him
Just for You.

Just trust him. Only him. He would lead you through.
Only listen to him, to his words just for you.
You are precious and rare.
You need not listen beyond — only listen to words spoken (crafted) for you.

There were fires in the streets,
``````And graffiti on the walls,
````````````And agitators preying off this moment of change.

Unease penetrated your being.

Raised to not show dismay or distress, speak of anger or hurt —
``` confusion and fear bound you to believe what he said.

You kept your eyes closed as he declared them ALL THE SAME —
```Never minding the millions wanting injustice to stop,
``````Instead equating them ALL
`````````to those seeking to damage and harm.

With your eyes closed, you believed him
```Scared of them all
``````For even Good Trouble feels scary when you cannot see.

And there was not just good trouble afoot.

The murderer strengthened off of your fear as you clung to his arm.
Through his eyes, he described thugs seeking to harm you,
```taking all that you have
``````Destroying his land,
````````He said, “Your land,”
```````````(Stolen) for you.

And while millions cried out full of loss and despair,
```he took the actions of few
``````to cast his screenplay of fear,
`````````bringing cameras and crew to shoot the film for his plan,
````````````to push play and repeat,
```````````````again and again.

The murderer knew the power of pushing play and repeat,
People recall the drumbeat of voices,
The truth will succumb to defeat.

``````````````````````For you.
````````````````````Just for you.
```````````````All this production for you.

After many miles of numb senses and of blind trust and faith,
```the murderer brought you into the city — shining bright on the hill.
He delivered you to the front of the most magnificent house
```once The People’s House —
`````since his arrival — no more.
(Built by the hands of those now “thugs” from so many generations before.)

He brought you into his house.
```Where now only his chosen are allowed.
``````And said “Welcome to my home,”
`````````Only his home…
````````````and now
````````````` ……yours?

The murderer reminded you of his promise — how he kept you all safe.
All he asked for was your loyalty, but a small price to pay.
Amazed by his generosity, you smiled through your haze.

He HAD kept his promise.
To you.
Just for You.
These were the Promises Made and Kept.
It was always for you.

Pleased by your obedience, he sought to further indulge.
He told you stories of hardship, mistreatment, and assault.
He told you more danger was coming for him…and for you.

He told you of his own crucifixion, his pierced palms, his thorn torn crown.
He then told you how he “Rose Again,” he was the “Only One,” who could.
His power was unstoppable — no limits (even if one should!)

And after you had entered, the help closed the large black gates.
He told you who to look out for.
He told you who to hate.

And as the doors were bolted and the shutters were all locked,
`````The murderer summoned the guards of his reign
`````````to Stand Back
````````````and Stand By.

With his house now protected, and you safely inside,
He called you by name. He remembered his lines.
“Chosen One.” “My Chosen One, you are so precious and rare.”
“Please take a seat. Drink more juice. I assure you have no care.”

He left you for “a moment”
He had important things to do…
He hoped you would make yourself comfortable
While he reached out to a person or two…

Too uneasy to stand up, you gently lowered down,
```and as you did, a familiar leather-bound book caught your eye.
Hardly recognizable, binding broken, upside down on the floor.
```Stripped of its pages, onion skin paper crumpled and torn.

Once of great meaning… (Now, not so much.)
Red Letters removed.
An uncapped Sharpie nearby.

Rewritten for him.

No…no…
Rewritten BY him.
(He rewrote our Good Book…full of verses for him!!!)

Unattended in his chambers, the murderer paced round the room,
```Intolerant and edgy, forever on-guard over his reign,
``````the murderer found salvation seeing his face on the screen.
`````````While the parrots and puppet-masters played his favorite songs,
````````````his plan worked well in this media state machine.

He called despots and dictators — romanced by their skill.
He forged letters from his doctor, “perfect health!” (though he’s quite ill.)
He hid connections and dealings — hired true thugs to attack.
He wrote checks to lovers, and tallied all of his cash.

He brought revenge to those who challenged him
Drowning them in litigation while he plotted and schemed.
He gleefully ruined the lives of career civil servants.
While he failed marriages, businesses, charities —
``````and cherished destroying all our dreams.

He waged war against experience, knowledge, and hard work.
Instead he valued “a good show,” cut deals for friends —
```grew wealth for all he knew
He bragged his own stealing was “smart” and “good business sense”
```though his stealing harmed the greater good — and even took from you.

He hid the truth of Pandemic proportion —
```for he was unable to con by remote.
So instead, he rallied on, calculating illness and deaths
```would be timed after you cast your vote.
He cared not for life, at least not for our lives —
```the lives already here, in deep need.
He only cared about stock market values and fulfilling his never-ending greed.

He turned everything upside down, sneering as we reeled.
He cared not for the harm he caused, as long as he was healed.
His acts removed all chance of decency — he spewed anger and deceit.
He pushed out our neighbors, abandoned friends,
```and let ISIS captives run free.

He took paybacks, bribed nations, bartered our resources for his own.
He broke our word, our trust, respect, and love –

And MURDERED our sense of home.

From his chambers, with many assists from puppet masters and parrots,
```he honed this “unprecedented” way,
``````he built up alliances — all with a cut,
`````````to take
```````````and to take
`````````````and to take….

And you seemed unaware of his masterful play.

Meanwhile, from your seat, honoring your host and his choosing,
```another round of toxic gold further sickened your being.

While you moaned in discomfort, far away from his view,
He fired and he taunted. He mocked and denied.
He lied.
``````And he lied.
````````````And he lied.
``````````````````And he lied.

The murderer lied about them, he lied about us,
```he lied about him, her —
``````And Me.
He lied about everything that we were to be.

You see we were not going to harm you.
You were never our goal.
What we sought was a union, far more perfect and whole.

This more perfect union — it had room for us all
Room for you — and for me — and for those who had not yet been called….
It only required some change that would unsettle us all.

While you heaved and released
He branded us all with false names
```Violating our truth — filled every space with his games
``````Then he sealed you from us, gave you your chosen land.
`````````While you purged, and you moaned, and you felt gross within.
````````````You blamed your body for its frailty
```````````````and you prayed more —
`````````````````for him.

For your juice.
For more juice.
For that damn precious juice!

And when the news came, that she was now gone —
Shock and dismay-filled silence fell across the land.
For she, who inspired us, had been dealt an unfair hand.

Though her petite frame was well-worn, cancer has no remorse.
She had labored on,
```She had fought on,
``````To make more room for our voice.

She gave hope to the millions that dissent served our good —
```to point us toward the future where it could be understood.
She taught us patience and friendship,
```She modeled decency and concise elegant thought.

She taught a “law” meant for all
``````and an “order” for equality under it,
`````````even when — especially when —
````````````it was not Originally sought.

For she knew no time had all the answers and believed we ALL had rights.
She had brought this mission into view….

We despaired the gaping hole of her presence on that night.

We adored her and we championed her. We were so grateful for her stay.
And the murderer knew we would miss her, when she was finally called away.

On this night, as the news spread, the murderer plotted his next course.
He cared not for the mourners, gave us no time to grieve —
```having cut off from his heart a long time ago,
``````this murderer had no remorse.

For a great tactician knows when to strike,
```and to strike when the enemy is down.
So before her body found peace in the ground,
```he floated names to his buddies across town.

When you returned from your retching, you felt nauseous and weak.
But you were grateful for shelter.
```For safety.
``````And you felt grateful for him.
He was there for you (again) — in your moment of need.

Too wobbly to be upright, his staff helped lay you down.
You felt the plushness of the finest threads molding all around.
Your cells released to the softness and your eyes finally closed
```while the parrots and puppet-masters lullabied you with his chosen tunes.
`````You found more comfort in these songs —
```````After all, they were familiar to you too.
``````````And so you smiled, as you nestled, drifting off to sleep,
You smiled at your many blessings — for all your dreams had just come true.

All for you.
Just for you.
So much golden juice for you.
He kept his Golden Chalice Promise.
He gave it all to you.

As you slept, deeply held by the hops and his bed -
The murderer finally sought you for his prize
(in harmony with the parrots and puppet masters who successfully
filled you with their lies.)

All you needed was his comfort.
All he wanted was to make you “Mine.”
And with his delivery of your golden juice,
Our precious democracy … well, it surely may die.

And on this fateful night,
he finally sought you for his pleasure.
He kissed your non-responsive lips again and again,
for his success had been without measure.

He smiled at his brilliance while stroking your hair —
```he saw you now only as his possession.
“You are mine now,” he said, as he laid himself down,
```moved you under the sheets — voiding any past lesson.

Once he finished taking from you, all your body and soul,
he barrel-rolled over to sleep.
He smiled through his yawn, his eyes starting to close,
```and said “Donny, My Boy — What a great job you’ve done!”
``` “I’m gonna kill it in the ratings next week.”

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Rebecca Romo

Psychologist, Wife, Mom, Human Being. Seeking to build meaningful bridges between mental health, politics, spirituality, and humanity.