I’m just here to repeat #thisisnotnormal over and over again.
If “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” were about the white house.
This is seriously like the worst joke.
I mean, Steve Bannon, advocating for the country to be run the way dudebros on the internet have been telling each other how to run things for decades, trickling out from an ever flowing font of wannabe oppressors. So now he is one.
He looks like the misunderstood white man. kept from being his truly superior self by women or something I don’t know, he’ll blame anyone but the white people who told him he wasn’t good enough. He doesn’t want to stop them, he wants to replace them.
He’s still yucky looking.
So, I keep thinking about it like it’s the tv show it’s meant to be to see if I understand the script.
And the script says next they go after the judicial system. This is what comes next.
‘”The reason I used the Civil War and Reconstruction is because it isn’t a secret that Reconstruction failed,” Peter wrote. “It failed and left the South in an extreme poverty that it still hasn’t recovered from.” And besides, “slavery was expensive and the Industrial Revolution was about to happen. Maybe if there had been no war, slavery would have faded peacefully.”
‘As a historian, I found this remarkable, since it was precisely what all American schoolchildren learned about slavery and Reconstruction for much of the 20th century. Or rather, they did until the civil rights era, when serious scholarship dismantled this narrative, piece by piece. But not, apparently, in Peter’s world. “Until urban liberals move to the rural South and live there for probably a decade or more,” he concluded, “there’s no way to fully appreciate the view.”‘
A Trump Voter Speaks
I’ve seen so many articles online talking about what we don’t know about rural Americans that voted for Trump. They repeat themselves so much; they tire me so much. I grew up with them. I know them. I understand the upset of the ever-poor, ground up from time immemorial from dirt farmer to miner to factory worker. I don’t understand the white supremacy of the bankers and college-educated and upwardly-mobile whites I grew up with. But maybe it’s in the paragraphs quoted above, because I did grow up there. I grew up “understanding” that the Civil War may have been unnecessary, that it was violent and vindictive and horrible, that the North was “just as bad” with what they did to their poor workers. I had to be disabused of so many ideas, some of which are still being battered, some of which I’m still looking at in amazement on the inside of my head. I’m still trying to convince fellow Southerners that “states’ rights” is a bad idea, when a decade ago, I was sure that more local control would fix things.
I don’t have a conclusion. I just thought some of you might find this useful.
1. Depression and anxiety keep me from being able to look at this too much. Angry people ranting (almost ALWAYS justifiably) about white people and our bullshit; the give-em-a-chance, the waiting-to-see; and of course the un-woke patriarchy… I’m pretty sure the outright sympathizers are all out of here.
2. I’m divided between “Facebook and other social media have become vital to disseminating information” and “I need to make social spaces where I feel safe and supported because my physical social availability is limited.”
3. I’m also divided between “I have people (my husband and chosen family) to protect and things to protect for those people (my job, my reputation)” and “people with the same or greater challenges than I have also need my support.” Right now, I’m in “retract” phase, making accounts private, reducing my exposure.
4. I need to stay focused and choose effective action, but even choosing that effective action can involve too many options and too much research.
5. I can’t refer to the occupant of the White House by his name or title. I can’t respect him. I fear diluting my understanding and respect for the office he is now holding by even calling him by that. “Occupant” he shall be henceforth, when not calling him the Dump/Fump/Bump/Lump or other euphemism.
6. I expect you’re mostly the same? Some days, you need to be a burrito in a blanket fort, and some days, you’re all I am all the fiery awareness, fight me?
7. We just concluded the largest demonstration I’ve heard of in U.S. history and around the world. AND our current Unministration has committed to lying to us and gaslighting us and attacking us.
8. So I’ve got this new wordpress blog, and I need to put truth on there and my story and other things. #tellmesomethingtrue #thisisnotnormaland other hashtags will be used. This is what I think I will do to provide a nominal separation between chatting with friends and venting my spleen.
The criboys we were making fun of because we were determined that geekdom would be intersectional and humanism would be feminist… may have won this election.
Or it may have been the Russians.
Or it may have been the Republicans.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the Tumbleweed.
We’re not gonna use his name here, ok?
On Nov. 8, we went down the rabbit hole in a big way. I mean, whatever species takes over as the dominant one on this planet, they’re going to be like, “2016, man, we don’t talk about 2016” or they’ll teach it to their kids like we taught the Holocaust.
I have a lot of thoughts and, you know, I’ve been diagnosed with depression since 1989 or so, so some of them are paranoid, demented, fucking grim, or really inappropriate.
I try to mitigate this by keeping good people around me. And smart people. And motivated people.
But I need to make some boundaries about this. Facebook has become an unpredictable emotional miasma in the aftermath of the General Election. I still have a livejournal, but the Russians bought them. My attempt at action has been a few thirty-second phone calls a few $5 donations — which will surely net me more emails requesting donations and support than my meager attempts are worth.
There are so many things, and I need to write down how it was before I forget. Because I keep gaslighting myself that nothing has changed. I still have my job and my crappy car and almost 100% of my friends and my wrongheaded family and my too-expensive apartment. The same ornery, traumatized cat won’t let me pet her even tho I feed her and clean her box. But the world I have known is changing forever, maybe even disappearing.
I need a place to save things, not lose them.