Your future is our past.
I do not have anger at the men currently breaking many laws and robbing our country blind.
I have anger at all my so-called centrist and liberal colleagues and acquaintances, whose hubris and self-satisfaction paved the road for this rampage.
When a former colleague of mine said “both sides are out of control” I knew we were fucked. When my superior at work said I had no right to judge Elon Musk’s character, I knew we were fucked. When a minority headhunter upbraided me for salty language during a discussion of literal kids in cages, I knew we were fucked.
And I am biting my tongue before I continue listing the political betrayals I harbor in my heart.
Those born to relative wealth in this country have no idea how good they’ve had it, and they’ve lacked the humility to consider that the refugees showing up at their door were visitors from their own future.
My fellow elites have protected their egos from the wound of accepting that their relative privilege was shielding them from seeing the degeneration that was fast approaching.
May the immiseration be equally distributed. Though, of course, it won’t be. Just like the lessons of this destruction will be lost on those who most need it.
If you want a pep talk, go read Josh Marshall. If you want a “hit” of hope, it doesn’t exist. Hope is labor. It can’t be outsourced.
But here’s the first episode of The Dekalog to illustrate what love can be. And if you do nothing else, hug a loved one. Call a friend.