A Surly Girl's Guide to Life

My rage is palpable. It is so strong at times that I fear I cannot contain it within my body. It wants out. It wants somewhere to go. Something to do. But there is nowhere for it to go, so it holds war council meetings in my psyche with my frustration. My rage and frustration are basically my personal mental equivalent of the Democratic Party. They talk a good game, but neither of them has come up with a solid plan on how to move forward. Unlike the Democratic Party, my rage and frustration will eventually take action.

We have no one who has stood up and said, “Enough is enough. Here’s how we put a stop to the senseless and ever-evolving cruelty and venality running rampant in the country.” We have representatives who may mean well, but they don’t have the particular set of skills we need. They keep acting like the guardrails are still in place and that if we elect them one more time, they are going to get shit done. They can email and text all they like, asking me for $5 to help them stop the regime’s forward press. (And yes, we’re not calling this an administration, it’s a regime.) I’m not giving them another damn dime until they can tell me where to pick up my Molotov cocktail and where and when we’re throwing them.

I’m not a fan of violence. But it is abundantly clear that it is the language that this regime speaks. And it may be the only language that they understand. They do not call for peace; they call for submission. They threaten us with more violence and outright oppression if we do not comply. They employ poorly trained (if they are actually even trained) thugs and send them out into the streets without guidance or protocols. They commit heinous acts of cruelty and violence, then destroy evidence and compromise crime scenes so that they can control the narrative. Don’t believe what you see – even if the video evidence is abundantly clear – and don’t believe what you hear – unless they are the ones speaking.

They speak in lies, propaganda, and double standards. Those who claimed wearing masks and showing proof of vaccination was government overreach are now wildly in favor of demanding that people show their papers. Those, including my neighbor with a “Rittenhouse Rules” bumper sticker, who were good with a kid bringing a gun to a protest and killing two people, are claiming Alex Pretti deserved what he got for wearing his constitutionally protected gun on his hip while trying to protect women. (They hate us so much.)

Yesterday, we went to a small local protest/vigil for Alex. My rage and frustration wanted something to do, even if it was just to stand on a corner with friends and hold a sign. It was a compromise – we got a little fresh air, exercised our rights, and no one got hurt. As we stood there with about a hundred fellow citizens, we saw mixed reactions from the drivers on the road we lined. Some honked in support or waved. Some flipped us off. Some gave us a thumbs down. One of the most disappointing things I saw was a group of kids in the back of a car mimicking their parents and energetically giving us thumbs down. Stellar fucking parenting going on there. Teaching your children that people exercising their rights to assemble and speak their truths should be mocked or shunned. It tells me their education is woefully inadequate in U.S. history and civics.

A few weeks back, we attended our city council’s meeting to discuss how they would protect our community in light of recent ICE activity in our county. We were met with the condescension that defines white privilege, specifically white male privilege. Our Hispanic community was told by one of our devout Christian councilmen, “If you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear.” in a tone of voice that conjured up a southern plantation owner talking to his slaves about how they wouldn’t get whipped if they would just mind their overseer. He then went on to tell us that they simply can’t do anything to defend us or protect us because it would negatively impact the city financially, as we need money from the federal government to survive. Don’t bite the hand that feeds, lick the boots instead. It’s exhausting to have to contain my rage and frustration at the audacity, and my disappointment to find that my city’s leadership is as impotent as I suspect our Dear Leader is.

My rage and frustration want a leader WITH A FUCKING PLAN to step forward and guide us through this. They (and I) want that leadership here on the local level and on the national level. It’s a short list of demands:
1. Stop normalizing armed masked men in the streets
2. Stop killing US citizens and abducting immigrants
3. Put together a REAL immigration plan
4. Stop pretending the man in charge is anything but a narcissistic toddler
5. Start taking care of EVERYONE in this country, not just the ones who look and think like they do.

Like I said, not a long list, but I’m not sure how much longer either of them is going to be contained by my psyche or better angels. They and I both drink and have short fuses.

Let us not go gentle into that good night.