I’m not social. I don’t care about Society with a capital S, I prefer the company of my few good friends, most of whom don’t Rate. Nonetheless, because I’m part of a rooted and privileged community I’m called upon now and then to put on linen and mingle with a better crowd and try and keep a smile on my face and my personality disorder at bay.
Thus I found myself at a benefit a few weeks ago at which a friend who is very social told me about a novel coming out by a friend of hers about Sarah Palin becoming president and the U.S. going Christian. I was quite interested in the novel. I collect these dystopian fantasies because they are so at odds with my experience. I DON’T think there’s going to be a Christian nation any time soon, I think the fundamentalist tide that brought Reagan in has long since crested and gone, and gay marriage is the law of the land, and a good thing too. There are lots of better things to worry about– for instance Islamophobia. But ever since I was little I heard these warnings about the Christian nation and the goyim oppressing us, which I now regard as paranoid and self-involved and worthy of being exploded.
After the benefit, my social friend got in touch to hook me up with the author, but when I looked into the book I determined that the author is not Jewish, so it was not my material, and I told my social friend as much.
Then the other day I went into the post office and she was there talking to a friend of hers and brought me into the conversation. It was all in the moment, i.e., I had not parked my personality disorder outside. So in the very next breath when the Christian nation was brought up, I said defiantly I am NOT interested in the Christian nation. Small patches of color appeared in her cheeks, but she rallied and said in a plucky voice, You should be; they wouldn’t be very nice to you! I said, It’s not going to happen. Sarah Palin was soundly rejected by the voters, she’s a joke. I’m much more concerned about the Zionist nation, which poses an actual threat to–
My friend backed away with a cracked smile, waving her hands in front of her face to indicate that she had had enough.
If you have a personality disorder you spend a lot of time in life in what a friend has called the FUCK FUCK FUCK! moment, in which you review your triumph and think how you might have done better. I can say that this time it hasn’t been that bad. I was very rude, and I regret that, but I made my position clear, and I’ll live with the consequences. As Emily Dickinson said, “The soul selects her own society Then shuts the door.” I don’t think anyone’s going to bug me anytime soon about the Christian nation.