Haunted by Each Other?
A back patio at dusk. Two good friends—Aaron and Milo—nursing beers and chowing down on homemade chicken wings. The cicadas are still roaring in the heat of the day. They’ve been through this argument before, but tonight, it lands differently.
Aaron:
Jesus H. Trump! Them are spicy!
So, back to what we were talking about inside. You keep saying conservatives use logic as well as progressives. But I don’t see it.
Conservatives are the continual capitulation to raw desire. Trump wants to make America great again by doing away with due process, targeting trans people, going after free speech on campus, sending the military out to physically control dissent. Fine, make America great again—but don’t call that America any longer. Conservatives don’t contain desire—they canonize it. They bow to custom, to appetite, to inherited emotion—and call it moral order. They always have!
Milo:
I wish my beer was as chilling as your examples. I’m not arguing for Donald Trump, as you know—I’m arguing for conservatism. And why am I doing that? Because somebody has to. Conservatism has its place. What if tradition, a cornerstone of conservatism, is a way of elevating desire—not indulging it, but recognizing that desire isn’t going away, so you build rituals to tame it?
Aaron:
You don’t tame something by giving it a throne and calling it king. You examine it. You drag it into the light. If our biology gives us greed, tribalism, lust—then logic should interrogate those drives. Not dress them in robes and call them “family values.” Conservatives worship the past, and they abhor science.
Milo:
But who says logic stands outside of those drives? That it’s some pure lens? Logic is a tool, not a god. Is it your god? It reflects the values we assume. Even your argument—“biological desire is bad”—starts with a value judgment.
Aaron:
That judgment isn’t arbitrary. It’s empirical. Look around: violence, corruption, and oligarchy—now coming to a theatre near you—climate collapse—these aren’t accidents. They’re the consequences of human impulses. Rationality is the only force that ever interrupts that cycle.
Milo:
Interrupts it—or just displaces it? You talk like the goal is to escape desire. But maybe rationality doesn’t sever us from biology. Maybe it guides it. Refines it. Aristotle called reason “the form of forms”—but it’s still a form. Not a cage.
Aaron (leaning over):
Okay, so, please, tell me (laughing derisively)—why is it always the conservative who gets away with “guiding” desire, while the progressive has to justify every moral instinct with a peer-reviewed footnote?
Milo (smiling):
That’s a very good question. It’s the progressives’ own standard.
Aaron:
But hold it right there! This is important. Progressives aren’t interested in progressives’ standard. They’re interested in THE standard.
Milo:
Now you sound like conservatives when I grew up—before they became nihilistic and post modern.
Aaron:
Wait until these cuts at the NIH mean fewer cures for childhood diseases. Science ends up helping a hell of a lot of conservatives who voted against it. How bad will it have to get before they realize that?
Milo:
Look, what’s wrong with half of America having their guy in the top position half of the time?
Aaron:
Oh, Lord. Are you giving up on any semblance of rationalism? Is the other guy’s guy to be held to no standards?
Milo:
So here’s my new theory on this. Maybe the core difference is conservatives start from the body. Progressives start from the will.
A silence opens. The cicadas have slowed. Aaron looks at, then ignores, a text.
Milo:
And they are constantly haunted by each other.
Aaron (shifting):
Where’s Elise tonight?
Milo:
She’s out with her book club. They’re doing Middlemarch again. She says it reads differently after the second divorce. No response to my theory?
Aaron (laughs):
Haha. Everything reads differently after the second divorce.
Milo:
She says Dorothea’s arc makes more sense once you’ve tried to love a great man.
Aaron (quiet):
Maybe that’s what America’s doing... trying to love a great man.
Milo:
I think America keeps trying to love an idea. And getting disappointed when it turns out to be human.
Aaron:
Did you see the Supreme Court decision today? They upheld Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors.
Milo (nodding):
I did.
Aaron:
That’s not just a policy. It’s a message. It’s the state stepping in to say, “We know your desire better than you do. And we don’t trust it.”
Milo:
Or it’s saying: “Desire at that age is volatile. Maybe wait.” It depends on what you think the state’s role is—to affirm, to protect, or to restrain.
Aaron:
Restrain whom? And for whose comfort? Every time the system says “wait,” it turns out someone was bleeding while waiting.
Milo:
I don’t disagree. But I also think we’ve lost the ability to argue about timing without being accused of cruelty. The moment you bring up caution, you get lumped with the worst actors.
Aaron:
Because the worst actors are winning. They’re defining the terms. And we’re letting them do it under the flag of tradition... and under the flag.
Milo:
Or maybe we’ve forgotten how to talk about tradition without assuming it’s a Trojan horse.
Aaron (after a beat):
Speaking of a Trojan horse, I guess you’re loving the irrational conservative panic over the border.
Milo:
Actually, I think progressives need to take borders more seriously—not just as barriers, but as structures. If you want justice, if you want healthcare, education, environmental protections—those require some defined “we.” Not because outsiders are bad. But because responsibility needs contours. Without a border, it’s not a society. It’s a concept.
Aaron:
Now you sound like... what’s his name...
Milo:
Edmund Burke? Maybe Burke had a few points. Even a garden needs a wall.
A long pause. Aaron leans back and looks up at the sky filling with stars.
Aaron:
Maybe I just don’t want to live in a country that throws a tantrum every time someone suggests we don’t act on our worst instincts.
Milo:
Now we’re getting to it.
Aaron:
It’s exhausting, Milo. This performance of freedom and then back to chaos. The worship of impulse. I watch other societies—Sweden, Canada—and I think, they seem to have a deeper grip on rationality. On limits. On the social contract.
Milo:
And so what—America ranks low on your chart of Enlightenment virtue? Have you ever lived in Sweden or Canada? How do you know what it’s like?
Aaron:
I read the news.
Milo:
And I watch Scandinavian noir. Let’s call it a draw.
Aaron:
I’m not trying to change America. I’m trying to safeguard the West. If the lowest of the West commands the rest, that’s not a good situation for the future of Western civilization.
Milo:
Haha. Nice move. When you start being concerned about all of Western civilization, my alarms go off. What exactly is the West you’re trying to protect? Florence and Athens braided together? A fantasy of order that never really existed? Do you want to hear about Florence and Athens? The West has always been loud, fractured, experimental. If America seems chaotic, maybe that is part of the Western inheritance—its messier, more democratic soul.
Aaron:
But it’s become unmoored this time. There’s been a certain rational order since World War II that America’s championed. We’re going way downhill. I’m not sure we’ll recover.
Milo:
Maybe. But ranking societies by their “grip on rationality” assumes we all mean the same thing by rationality. And that your fear of chaos isn’t just another desire—for control, for escape, maybe even for superiority. Every civilization fails its own myth. I think if we start dividing the West into tiers of purity, we stop being part of it. We just sit above it, judging.
Aaron (after a long pause):
That’s what keeps me up at night.
Milo (softly):
Then maybe what you need isn’t to escape irrationality. It’s to admit that you’re in it with the rest of us. Even your hierarchy is just a mirror of longing.
Aaron:
You really think so?
Milo:
I think the desire to live above desire is the oldest desire of all. And maybe the most dangerous.
Part Two: First Principles
It’s fully dark now. A moth flits around the single light above them. Milo goes to the fridge for another beer. Aaron leans back, half-smiling in the dark.
Milo:
Here—have more wings. You remember that philosophy class from senior year? The one with the guy who wouldn’t look at his students?
Aaron (grinning):
Professor Givens. Always speaking to the back wall. Like the truth was hiding behind us.
Milo:
Right. That day he said, “All ethics begins with what you fear.” You and I spent a week arguing about that over cafeteria lunches.
Aaron:
I remember. You said you feared certainty. I thought that was such a cheap answer.
Milo:
Still do.
Aaron:
But thinking back now, my answer was also a lie. I said I feared ignorance.
Milo:
Oh yeah?
Aaron:
I think what I really feared was submission. The idea that I might be part of a machine I didn’t design. That my instincts weren’t noble. That I’d been born into a species of biological robots with an upgraded brain.
Milo:
That’s what you’ve been saying tonight, in your way. That left to ourselves, we chase pleasure, vengeance, and spectacle. That biology is the original sin.
Aaron:
I don’t believe in sin. But I see where you’re headed—and yes, I agree. Biology as sin? Hmm. Not sure what I think about that.
Milo (shaking his head):
You condemn conservatives for ritualizing biological desire. But a ritual isn’t an indulgence. It’s a recognition: this thing has power. So we’ll meet it—not with denial, but with form.
Aaron:
But why dress up the beast? Why not name it and shoot the bastard?
Milo:
Because you are the beast. And the priest. And the bullet.
A long pause. The moth finally lands, tapping against the lantern. Milo watches it without moving.
Aaron:
So you don’t believe in moral progress?
Milo:
I believe in moral attention.
Aaron:
And if I still want to rank societies by how much attention—to use your word—they pay?
Milo:
Then at least notice when that’s your desire. To order the world. To be its judge.
Aaron:
And if I move to Europe?
Milo (smiling):
Then I hope you find what you're looking for. Just don’t pretend it’s above desire. It’s shaped by one.
Aaron (softly):
I’m tired.
Milo:
I know. Me too.
A breeze tries to reinvigorate them. A dog barks once, then stops.
Aaron:
You still believe there’s something in us worth trusting?
Milo:
No. I believe there’s something in us that keeps asking that question. And I trust the asking.
Aaron (grinning):
That’s reason and logic, my friend!
Epilogue: Texting
The next morning, Milo finds a text from Aaron.
Aaron:
Didn’t sleep much. Kept hearing you say, “You are the beast. And the priest. And the bullet.”
That’s either the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard or the most merciful. Maybe both.I’m going for a walk.
Also, I owe Professor Givens an apology.
Talk soon.
Thanks for last night. Love you, man!
Milo sets the phone down, smiles without moving his mouth... and goes back to his porn.