In the current very un-presidential presidential election, the notion of a willing suspension of disbelief has become a willingness to believe anything and to hold to that belief in the face of implausibility, contradictions, and facts that belie that belief.
Believing that Trump is not a misogynist who has assaulted women is as ridiculous as believing the world is only 8,000 or so years old. (It would be interesting for someone to correlate those two beliefs in a poll.)
Believing that Clinton was only ‘careless’ in handling classified information by using a private email server is as ridiculous as believing that all Bill and Loretta did during that meeting on the tarmac was talk.
Believing that either candidate, if elected, would be able to control (much less defeat) Daesh/ISIS/ISIL is as ridiculous as believing that the 3-4,000 year hatred between followers of Jehovah and followers of Allah will melt into a love-fest. It’s more likely that it will melt into glass, which is what sand subjected to a thermonuclear burst becomes.
Believing that the damage done to the American political system by Trump’s claims of “rigged” will be repaired—whether he or Clinton is elected—is as ridiculous as believing that Trump has cheated on his income taxes. [No, he probably hasn’t cheated. He’s taken advantage of parts of the tax code written and paid for by lobbyists for the real estate industry.]
Believing that the Affordable Care Act, also known as “Obama Care,” has failed is as ridiculous as believing that either Clinton or Trump or a future Congress can do away with that act. (It hasn’t failed; and it already has too big a constituency to ever be discarded.)
Believing to be true everything you hear on any news source, whether far, far right or far, far left, is as ridiculous as believing that your neighbor’s opinion of either Trump or Clinton should sway your judgment. [Talking head: “How do you know that he/she didn’t do that?” Idiot person-on-the-street: “I just know.” Talking head: “But how do you know?” Idiot: “I just know.” *]
Believing that the un-presidential debates should be taken as any indication of how either Trump or Clinton might perform as president is as ridiculous as believing that either of them has the integrity to be president. [Come on! Three, 90-minute or so rehearsed, partly scripted performances are going to allow you to see the true heart and mind of either of them? You have to be at least smarter than that. Please tell me you are smarter than that.]
Believing that Clinton would seize all citizens’ guns is almost as ridiculous as believing that Trump would seize all female citizens genitals. [Sorry. May we have a discussion of the election that doesn’t involve genitals?]
Believing that Trump could do any more than make a dent in illegal immigration is as ridiculous as believing that Clinton would open the golden door ** to terrorists.
Believing that Trump would be able to build a wall between the US and Mexico (much less that Mexico would pay for it) is as ridiculous as believing that the woman whose house was in the walls of Jericho and who sheltered Joshua’s spies was an innkeeper. (She wasn’t. She was a prostitute. “Innkeeper” is a modern Christian perversion of that story.)
An author of fiction—historical fiction, science fiction, apocalyptic and dystopian fiction—must write in a way that allows a reader to “willingly suspend disbelief.” The setting, the characters, the plot all must be plausible enough that the reader can put himself or herself in the situation and in the characters’ minds in order to believe that what is written could possibly be true or come true. I tried to do that in “The Gospel Truth,” a historical fiction story of a boy growing up in Ty Ty, Georgia during the Great Depression of the early 20th century. I tried to do that in “The Stuff of Life: Book I,” which takes place not only on Earth but in outer space, millions of years ago. I tried to do that in “Holy Fire,” which is based on an extension of today’s news stories.
Please check them out on the home page.
* Redacted without changing the meaning, from a real interview.
** “Golden door,” as in “The New Colossus.” If you don’t know it, please follow this link and read the whole thing.
Think about it, especially the lines that aren’t often quoted.
Registered Curmudgeon, scientist, skeptic, humanist, and writer.