Winter 2016

Page 12

Fear & Loathing in 2016 Jasmine Nehilla Contributing Writer


s Tony assured you in the Fall issue, I’d be returning to my soapbox—and I came back with an extra box to prop up on!

The night of November 8th discharged a lot of F-words. The country sat at the edges of their couches intensely clutching their spouses, cushions, beer steins or whatever clutchable that was within reach as the telly announced our new President Elect. Many of us retired to bed—filled with emotion—ready to unload our opinions after digesting the news. Whether you were pleased with the results or not, the morning of November 9th had a very specific energy. Sure, there are many who probably didn’t feel the hovering funeral-like mood that devoured the day, but the resounding spillage of sentiments muted those who were genuinely joyful with the recent news. I heard and read our favorite four-letter F-word in a heavily seasoned manner, most commonly in the statement, “We are [explicative]ed”—so much 12

it should have been a trending hashtag. If F-bombs were actual bombs, we probably would’ve had another Hiroshima on our hands. I heard and read a lot of quotes and statements about maintaining and strengthening our Faith. But the F-word I saw more than any other word was Fear. One day during 2nd grade religion the concept of Limbo came up in our day’s lesson. Limbo was defined to us as a bordering place, between heaven and hell, where infants who die before being baptized spend their afterlife. The ideology that an infant—the very definition of purity and innocence—would not be welcomed in the presence of God really resonated with me. Immediately, I was struck with mental dyspepsia and had to ask Sister Marie Patrick for clarification, but found no comfort in her responses, so eventually I got sent to the principal’s office for “distracting the class.” Limbo consumed my journal entries and short stories for years and on November 9, 2016 limbo as the “state of uncertainty,” not the necessarily the place—returned to mind.