In previous posts, I talked about some of the reasons I fear the second-term Bush presidency. But prognostication is a tricky business. When I first left the States in '98, I had definitely not forseen that we would have had a major (and preventable) terrorist strike on my hometown, much less three ensuing, simultaneous wars. Not to mention record job losses. And the whole American Idol phenomenon.

But I digress. Considering what happened last time, the possibilities are limitless for the second Bush term. I don't necessarily mean that I'm worried Bush might start World War III or anything. I say this only because people like ex-CIA director James Woolsey have designated Bush's "War on Terror" as World War IV (counting the Cold War as World War III). I'm worried about Bush starting World War V. Of course, World War IV will still be going on (Rumsfeld will ridicule 'linear thinkers' who protest that we shouldn't get ourselves into a four-front war instead of the nice, maneagable two front land wars in Asia we have now).

So, in a nutshell, the country is in danger of going to shit and I have a strange feeling I might not want to stick around for that. Look, I'm not under the impression that Bush is going to do anything he wouldn't have otherwise done without the majority of the popular vote or anything, but there's a 55-45 split in the Senate. That's a lot of filibustering that needs to be done to stop Bush's legislative or appointment agendas. Bush is a lame duck. If you think he didn't give a shit what you thought before, he sure as shit doesn't now. And frankly, I don't want to be a part of it.

Who knows what's next. Maybe they'll send a couple anti-globalization protesters to Guantanamo, just to see what happens. Or make Phyllis Schlafly the Secretary of Education. Or name more buildings after Reagan. I mean, they could do anything! And who can stop them, honestly?

It's not that I think all the Democrats in America ought to raise stakes and move to Canada. Not everyone has the luxury of being able to do that. People have jobs, families, or student loans and all that. But some of us can just get up and go.

I was talking to a colleague a day before the election, about how I was worried about Bush winning (this was principally based, I can tell you now, on the fact that Bush's approval rating remained the same before and after the debates). I talked about a self-preservation instinct which was telling me to leave my home as my ancestors had left theirs. It occurs to me that I'm about the same age my great-grandfather was when he came to America. He just up and left, well before the World Wars would tear Europe apart. I like to think this refined fight-or-flight instinct is what keeps us alive. The survivors are the ones who live on to tell the unlikely stories of how they somehow knew it was time to get out of there. My friends, if there is a single lesson of import to be learned from history, it is <i>discretion over valor</i>.

Let me be clear here–I don't think that there's one country that's better than all the other countries. Each country has good points and bad points, good and bad culture, good and bad customs. I truly and honestly believe that people around the world are more similar than dissimilar. But each society shapes our worldview and our values. All societies work better for some of their members than for others. Those whose values conform are rewarded while dissenters are punished.

Getting back to my conversation with my colleague. She has faith in American values, she said. I do, too, I said, but which values are those, exactly?

I mean, I know about my America, my list of American values. Part of what I like about America is that it's the most diverse country in the world. Well, I say that because I live in Brooklyn. I'm not sure I would've said the same thing if I was from Wyoming. America is a sprawling scrap-pile, a self-contradictory melting pot. It's the world's biggest variety store and we have everything you're looking for on sale… whatever you need, it's somewhere around here (wait at the counter, we'll send the stockboy to go find it). America is catholic in the lower-case sense of the word; all-encompassing, all-accepting. Jazz is just as uniquely American as the Country/Western. We had Father Coughlin and Lenny Bruce. William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow. The Osmonds and the Mansons. Nobody owns America, which is what's great about it.

There's something else I learned when I left the States. Wherever I go, I'm an American. I may not be the same kind of American as many of my fellow citizens, but I'm an American nonetheless. I believe in free speech and small-r-republicanism and all citizens being equal before the law. We all have our top ten list of American values, but we compose those lists ourselves.

So it's not that I don't think there's a place for me in America anymore. It's more about the compromises we make to live here, which is a philosphical and political decision. Let's be clear: participation in a system is tacit approval of that system. I have to live with the laws here even if I don't agree with them.

So if I was to leave this country, it wouldn't be because I think some other country is inherently better. It wouldn't be because I'd rather go be a part of another system. If I left, I would be forever resigning myself to remaining outside those systems, an eternal outsider of principled non-participation.

Why would anyone choose such an existence? Because they are unconvinced of the efficacy of their participation in the system, that's why. So after all this deliberation about whether or not I should leave, it boils down to a single question:

Do I think that I could positively affect things in this country if I stay? Because if not, it's time to go.