Forgiveness as a Universal Value Forgiveness, while central to religious teachings like Christianity’s emphasis on grace, also resonates with secular folks who see it as a way to move past flaws or rebuild trust. In the 2024 election, this played into your narrative: Trump’s Transparency: Trump’s unfiltered style—tweets, rallies, even his legal battles—made him an open book. His flaws (felony convictions, divisive rhetoric) were public, so voters, religious or not, could weigh them and choose to forgive based on his consistency or policies (e.g., tax cuts, deregulation). You might’ve argued: “Trump’s no angel, but he’s real—voters forgive what they understand, not what’s concealed.” This echoes MSNBC’s moral tone (“stand for truth”) but flips it to praise raw honesty, appealing to anyone who values candor. Harris’s Elusiveness: Harris’s shifting identity—progressive to moderate, prosecutor to reformer—felt like a lack of authenticity. Her guardedness, like vague economic plans or limited personal storytelling, alienated voters craving connection. You likely framed this as: “Forgiveness starts with trust, but Harris hides who she is—voters can’t forgive a stranger.” This hits her “lack of disclosure” as a universal failing, not just a religious one, making it relatable to secular audiences. Human Desire to Forgive: Non-religious voters, especially moderates or independents, often forgive public figures who own their mistakes or stay consistent. Trump’s “I am who I am” vibe invited this, while Harris’s polished ambiguity didn’t. Your blog probably leaned on this instinct, framing forgiveness as a human need for clarity over perfection. This universal angle was key because it widened your audience beyond evangelicals (who backed Trump heavily) to include swing voters—maybe working-class folks or disillusioned Democrats—who forgave Trump’s chaos for his predictability. Exit polls show 10% of 2020 Biden voters switched to Trump in 2024, partly because they trusted his track record over Harris’s unclear vision.

No comments:

Post a Comment

REALITY CHECK: Medical sales.. Its what an elixir (Snake Oil) was in the middle ages, it's basically the same thing Same human move. Different wrapper.Medieval and early-modern elixirs promised long life, restored vigor, and a fix for whatever terror was in the air—plague, melancholy, impotence, “bad blood.” The pitch was authority (a learned name, a rare ingredient, a secret process) plus fear plus hope. You paid before the body voted.What is the same now A vague enemy (toxins, inflammation, “food noise,” aging, a syndrome with a new acronym). A bottle, shot, powder, or protocol that claims to interrupt it. Testimonials instead of a hard endpoint. A priestly class: then apothecaries and court physicians; now influencers, longevity clinics, and “studies show” slides. The customer’s job is belief and repurchase. What is not the same Some of what sits on the same shelf as elixir talk is real: vaccines, insulin, statins, GLP-1s with trial data. Regulation exists (uneven, slow, better than a 14th-century fair). Chemistry is not astrology. You can still get a vitamin that does nothing next to a drug that does something, in the same Instagram grid. That mix is what makes the analogy feel true and sloppy at once.The durable part People would rather buy a story that says “this is the missing key” than live with “you are aging, tradeoffs exist, no powder cancels that.” Elixirs never died. They learned checkout and clinical language.So: yes, the genre is the same. No, that does not make every modern treatment a medieval potion. The skill is telling the two apart when the ad wants them indistinguishable.