When it is routine to hold hostage a domestic flight to check the papers of ordinary citizens, when you have made it legal to seize the assets of those who speak out or gather in groups of more than two for fear we might contradict you or plan some protest, and shut the press down for printing truth, because you can’t bear to be wrong or challenged—
When you make us make art furtively as though it were wrong and dangerous (O it is, yes!)—
When you and your cronies have stolen our wages through bad schedules and punch-clock shenanigans and right to work for less laws, stripped us of what little we make through exorbitant taxes that subsidize your businesses, given the bosses permission to use our time and our bodies as they like without regard for our humanity or safety, no matter how many of us are maimed or killed, dumped us out of the skimpy, fraying safety net without arms, legs, or lungs, poisoned the air and water then sold it back to us, bottled, like the whole country is a company town, neglected unto ruin the bridges we cross to work each day and dug up the parks we cherish when we’re not, disappeared the buses and trains we ride so we have to all buy your cars or walk to your jobs, enslaved us with debt for an advanced education you require to work in the goddam mailroom, made us so poor we have to wager our lives in your wars to even begin to get ahead, then send our children to countries we’ve no business being in and abandon them when they come home without limbs or minds or sleep, pawn off the excess equipment to police and give them the power they should never have to decide who lives and who dies for expressing themselves or just walking down the street, enforcing harsh laws that send more of us (mostly Black and brown) than in any other nation to jails where we still work like slaves—
When you have reduced us from a free(ish) nation of free(ish) people pursuing happiness to utterly oppressed masses, when you are huddled in your compounds with your paid servants and paid security, unsure of their loyalty, behind razor wire and laser beams, as much prisoners as those in your jails—
This ends two ways: in misery for all of us or death for you and rebirth for us.
Stop now, while you still can. We are already sharpening our tools.
Amidst the lies of their non-existence the papers surface, a draft waiting to be numbered, dated, and signed: eleven pages of White Nationalist send-‘em-back-where-they-came-from hate and what amounts to ethnic cleansing, turning a hundred thousand National Guardsmen on their own people. How many of those first- and second-generation immigrants wearing their new country’s cammo do you think would comply with such an order, Mein Herr? We’ve done this before, in my lifetime and yours, when threatened by challenges to the status quo. Four young people ended up dead at a college in Ohio, shot by other kids their own age. And you would do that to us again, Mein Herr?
There is no national emergency involving immigrants, no plot to blow up the White House or even Target (no, white male citizens who look a lot like you are doing that). No need for the well regulated militia necessary to the security of a free State to participate in knocking on doors asking for papers, Mein Herr, and rounding up women and children, fathers or sons going to work and school each day —unless you don’t like their color, their accent, their food, their voices, their music and art, their existence, their right to freedom and opportunity on a level playing field that includes you, Mein Herr.
“Trump’s run for office electrified the radical right, which saw in him a champion of the idea that America is fundamentally a white man’s country.” –Mark Potok, Senior Fellow, Southern Poverty Law Center
He surrounds himself with wife-beaters braggarts racists the delusional the hateful the not just uncaring but openly selfish I-got-mine-to-hell-with-you money grubbers masquerading as entrepreneurs and job creators — white, almost exclusively. Men, almost exclusively. Wannabes. Just like him.
In his world, there are still deviants, but he is not one of them. No, even his love of young girls is Completely Normal. Sex and gender are the same one or the other on or off Tab A in Slot B missionary position and force no choices no identity but his or what reflects him.
In his world, brown skin is a crime. Black skin is automatically violent. Mexicans are rapists. Muslims are all terrorists. And the Blacks — no matter how they protest silently, loudly, on their knees, with fire and rage — they should all just die.
It’s so simple to be him. Always right. Always good. Always manly. Our Glorious Leader bred in the Fatherland.
“Leaks, premature withdrawals, and keeping number two in the dark. An unsurprising start of an administration full of dicks and bullshit.” –Amanda Gailey, Facebook
So much depends upon who’s in charge. Their opinions guide, their foibles and failings justify our own. Words and examples become, if not law, then reason or lack of it.
Now, our own Pussy- Grabber-in-Chief justifies reducing women to an empty vessel awaiting the sacred jizz (in whatever orifice, willingly or unwillingly) to be made whole and holy. So they think.
Listen up, you tools:
You owe her— that woman who hauled you around for nine months, you nutrient-grubbing parasite, sitting on her bladder, kicking her in the stomach at 3 AM, tearing her open in your frenzy to escape, but doomed to dependency and forever resentful.
If she is a mere host, then that’s what you were — some tapeworm or fungus, warping her brain chemistry for your own survival like something she’d catch from cleaning the litter box.
And if you think we have no power, no agency of our own, we’ll be happy to knit you a pussy hat from your own entrails.