I don’t think I’ve written anything since March, politically. I dabbled working on my book. I’ve cobbled together a few poems that all sound like desperate pleas to the universe to return us to some semblance of normal. I admit that I miss being miserable about the
Until a lot of people realize that this ride we’re on is more Final Destination than Cedar Point. Once fascists are in power they prefer to keep it, and they know if they don’t make a stockpile of it then bureaucracy will catch up with them. So they
Stubborness went Too far, This time I know we yelled A lot I know you thought you were Right It’s hard to look at you and know You’re part of the reason there’s so much Fear You layer confusing normal over The parts of you that wish
We are in the storm, folks, but the windows haven’t blown out yet so here I am again. Over the months since I started this newsletter I’ve talked a lot about preparedness, both in terms of what we can do to fight fascism and what loss will look
*This post contains spoilers JoJo Rabbit is a dark humor satire that follows a young boy in the Hitler Youth near the end of the war. It tells its story in a lighthearted -until -it’s -not progression, showing the subtle changes in JoJo as he realizes he might not
Many people express fairly regularly that they want some sort of return to normal. Many others, regretfully and gently, try to tell them that a return to normal is not possible. Maybe we could have done a full reverse somewhere in 2020, if we buckled down on the fascism and
Wicked is one of the most boldly political movies relevant to our current climate that I’ve seen. I haven’t read the book, but given what I’ve heard about it and what I know about the Wizard of Oz lore, I don’t think the movie took leaps
Toasted marshmallow in the fire of bridges burning I don’t know if I speak of me or my country What friends are left? I mean, who’s coming? We’ve abandoned most and lorded over the rest No one likes a bully Our legacy is British Blood and bones
The last few weeks have been an ever-darkening black cloud of policy changes and departmental vanishing acts. Elon Musk, backed by a small army of just -graduates (high school) and early twenty something’s, is well under way combing through the institutions that make up the back bone of our
I felt the swing of the axe on my neck Vilified for womanhood, for Being born a little out of time Tight corsets and layers of skirt not enough to keep me dancing Rough hews of ship beneath soft leather boots On oceans I only dream of now Before the
I am the one ravaged Everything is shallow My body left behind to waste in pools of Toxic waste, like, love I’ve never really had I wish I was dead It’s this phrase that holds my body up the way bones should I wish I was dead, instead
The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command. -Orwell, 1984 Santa Claus and God are much the same entity. They both give people the benefit of the doubt. They both are fantastical in some capacity, with rich lore