So. Ron Johnson is a work of … something. He is now trying to back out of these comments about the insurrectionists of Jan. 6th. He says he was never afraid (despite reports that people saw him fleeing the Capitol once it had been breached) because he knew those protesters love this country, would never break any laws, and support the police (despite video of these fine people beating the crap out of police officers with Blue Lives Matter flags and flag poles, spraying them with bear spray, ripping off their helmets).
But, Johnson says, if the rioters had been BLM or antifa, THEN he’d have been concerned. Interesting. I didn’t realize that NASA’s Mars explorer had transported back alien life forms already, nor that the aliens had successfully taken human form, ’cause that is the only explanation for this guy – he is from Mars. Or beyond. Maybe he was just making a pit stop on Mars when the rover happened by and scooped him up. But, he’s got his story and he’s sticking to it.
I almost want to say that I am grudgingly amazed that so many like him are sticking to their story, going down with the ship as it were. But I can’t say that. I’m disgusted. It might be loyalty, it might be saving face, it might be entreaty to the Universe for having their views validated. I don’t know, or care. All I know is…racism is alive and well on planet Earth right now. I want to say it’s kickin’ like never before, but I’m not even sure that’s true. The virulence and rancor of the likes of those people who invaded the Capitol, and those who are invading the ranks of rational society, seem pretty consistent with the ones who look like them from 20, 30, 50, 200, 400 years ago. Sneering and seething with hatred, and disdain, over many things I cannot even comprehend.
This is the 4th Reich, and they’ve left Germany to plant their flag on the fertile soil of our purple mountains’ majesty. The new world. The new world order. This is the fire THIS time, and it’s burning, whether we started it or not. The smoke is getting thick, the fumes choking, the heat becoming unbearable. The scariest part of all that, however, is that one expects there to be change when we’ve lost too much, when it hurts too much, when we are exhausted.
Unfortunately, we seem to have a tremendous capacity for pain, and there are those amongst us who are determined to keep this paradigm alive and kicking. By any means necessary. At any cost. No matter what. There is a near romanticism of the ideal, of “getting our country back”, which seems to be code for returning norms and rules of engagement to those of a time long past, a time of nostalgic fancy. At least for some. I don’t know how to resist that, how to combat that…and I feel the need to do so.
Resisting the narrative that has gained so much traction with dominant culture requires me to do a better job of ensuring that I only speak truth, fact, and being true to myself. I’m not interested in arguing or trying to convince anyone they are wrong. I’m not that powerful, nor do I want to be. It’s difficult, though, because I want to shake a few of these people until their teeth rattle in their skulls. And it’s exhausting.
Most of the time, I want to get off this planet, or at least out of this corner of it. Neither is a valid solution, so I’m resigned to quietly wait for my turn for the vaccine that many pledge to reject. Truthfully, I don’t believe they will all do that, but will keep up the front in order to save face and just to say they aren’t doing something a Democratic President is calling for. Whatever. I’ll feel better when I have it on board, but I’m not naive enough to believe that it solves everything. It will not make the virus go *poof* and so…I think I’ll order some silly masks to have some variety in my future wardrobe. It’s a small price to pay, at least for me.
I will happily impersonate Jimmy Stewart in “It’s A Wonderful Life” on the bridge, after Clarence the angel has returned him to his problematic life, and will hit my knees in the snow and sob, “I want to live!”. OK, a little dramatic, but you get the point. I never thought I would be so eager to have a hypodermic needle stuck into my flesh as I am right now, even while dreading it more than having a sharp stick poked into my eyeball. I would gladly give up that chance, however, if a simple shot could make the the vapors of racism go *poof*. I sometimes believe that’s a far worse disease than COVID-19…it’s lasted far longer and seems far more hearty. I wish we could work on a vaccine for THAT.
The Sound Hole 