The Clouds Part [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

In Seattle, after weeks of being shrouded in clouds, Mt Rainier would suddenly appear and people would exclaim, “The mountain has come out!” I almost wrecked my car the first time I saw it. Living now as I do, near the shore of Lake Michigan, when on a clear day we walk to the park or the beach and look south, it is possible to see the tallest buildings of Chicago. I think, “The city has come out.”

Unlike Mt. Rainier, a formidable presence towering into the sky, Chicago appears as a distant mirage. A beckoning.

Kerri has her entire life kept a daily calendar that doubles as a journal. Her calendar makes it possible for us to look back in time and re-member when memory has scrambled experiences. This past weekend Dogga turned 13 years old and we were reminiscing about the events that led us to suddenly have a dog. We were fuzzy on the details so Kerri fetched her calendar and we found ourselves reliving our initial meeting, my near spontaneous move from Seattle to Kenosha, and the moment on the road trip between those two cities, driving a Budget truck loaded with paintings, that we saw a sign for “Aussie pups” and decided to stop. We revisited each day in that wild progression and marveled at how much we’d forgotten or rearranged in our minds. The clouds part. Our life together towers and we are amazed.

What of the road ahead? It is a distant Chicago. I remember my grief on the morning after the election. The ugliness that loomed was hazy on that morning and has become crystal clear in the subsequent months. Masked thugs hauling people into concentration camps. The suspension of due process and habeas corpus. The utter corruption of the Department of Justice and FBI. An all out assault on the vote and right to protest. The collapse of the two party system, the rule of law and co-equal branches of government. The unmasked and unbridled profiteering of a president, his family and his party.

Kerri’s daily calendar entries rarely chronicle the political chaos but captures the details of our passage through it.

We’ve learned much about the underbelly of our nation. We’ve learned much about the bright lights and courageous spirits pushing back while holding the torch of democracy high, inviting hope and lighting a path through this dark time.

Someday, perhaps 13 years from now, we will have grown fuzzy on the details, and will pull out Kerri’s calendar and revisit these days and remember how the people of this nation came together to secure their democracy against a fascist near-takeover. That, at least, is my hope, my dream for our future. The clouds will have parted and we will ask, “Do you remember how the nation came out?”

untitled, 20″x16″ multi media on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about DISTANT CHICAGO

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Cosmos Questions [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Named after the Greek word kosmos (meaning “harmony” or “ordered universe”), cosmos flowers symbolize peace, balance, tranquility, and the harmonious arrangement of the world.” The Everpresent A-EYE

I am having an existential moment. That means that I am swimming around in the notion that there is no meaning or order in the universe and it is up to me to make it for myself. That’s a lot of responsibility! What if I am responsible for my own happiness and I screw it up!

I was not having an existential moment until I looked into the symbolism of the Cosmos – the flower – and bumped into the etymology and meaning of the word “cosmos” which is “the universe viewed as an orderly, complex, and harmonious system.” There’s plenty of science to support the orderly, complex yet harmonious system we know as the universe. I appreciate actual science that begins with a hypothesis, experimentation, observation, test upon test, verification, and drawing conclusions…and knows with each evidence-based conclusion, with each answer, bigger and bigger questions open.

I’m convinced that, unlike the spiritual traditions of the east, the three great western religions fear the absence of meaning (what happens after I die?) so they’ve constructed a very simple answer (I go to heaven if I’m good and hell if I’m bad). They’ve learned that people are more malleable and easily controlled if their cosmos is organized around fear, particularly the fear of breaking a rule and falling out of favor with an angry old father. Fear is an organizing principle that produces conflict. It is possibly why we have, as Joseph Campbell said, “3 names for the same god so we can’t get along.” This god is a colonist for sure: the shepherds of his flock control by pitting one group against the other. In this vast unknowable universe the shepherds claim the cranky old father chooses favorites. His is an autocracy made complex by his fickle love, contradictory rules and penchant for punishment. Sound familiar?

But that’s not what threw me into my existential crisis.

On our walk through the neighborhood we passed a house with brilliant cosmos. “I love those!” I said. I do. Cosmos may be among my favorite flowers. Kerri took a picture. I was not surprised when I investigated the symbolism of the simple cosmos-flower and found harmony, peace and tranquility. I was surprised to find, at the bottom of my screen, a box with this siren-call: Ask Me Anything.

Anything? A little cocky A-EYE box that promises an answer for anything?

I am suspicious of a little box that promises easy answers just as I am of religions that promise heavenly solutions – just as I have rolled my eyes for a decade at a bloated man in a blue suit who daily trumpets, “Only I can fix it!”

Ask me anything. Only I can fix it.

What if there isn’t an answer? What if it isn’t broken?

I find that it is more meaningful – and helpful – when my gods are silent, like a good parent, who, rather than dosing me with easy answers, helps me to find a better question. It may be frustrating at times but working and searching for my answers helps me grow.

Just so, the best leaders do not elevate themselves with boastful guarantees that they alone have all the answers. The best leaders elevate others. They seek answers with their constituents, answers that open doors to better questions. They welcome debate. They unify and facilitate. They focus energy into a common direction, making life better for all.

I stared at the box: Ask Me Anything?

“Okay,” I thought and smiled. “Two can play this game.” Into the A-EYE box I typed, “What’s your question?”

Eve, 48″x 48″, acrylic on panel

read Kerri’s blogpost about COSMOS

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Somebody. Nobody. [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“The comparatively affluent can withstand the moral effect of being subsidized and supported by government; not so the poor.” ~John Kenneth Galbraith, The Culture of Contentment

It is among the greatest bait-and-switch tactics played on the American public: While the Reagan republicans and the generations that followed crowed that Welfare Queens were robbing the public, 50 trillion dollars moved from the lower 90% into the personal pockets of the 1%. The misuse and abuse of the system was not – and is not – the woman using food stamps to feed her child.

Do you remember the cry, “Waste, fraud, and abuse!” It is the same strawman/woman tactic used to sell The BIG UGLY BILL that is now stripping medicaid, healthcare and food assistance from millions of citizens – all to provide a tax cut for the morbidly wealthy. Consider this: Elon Musk’s personal wealth is built on billions and billions of dollars of government funding, subsidies and tax breaks. His DOGE bros successfully killed any and all government oversight over his business practices and use of tax dollars. His morbid wealth is accelerated by tax breaks and a tax code that shifts the tax burden of the nation onto the poorest citizens.

It is a corrupt band that only has one note in its repertoire: the same gross stereotype, variation on the Welfare Queen, is fueling the rampant misinformation that now leads to mass deportation of immigrants or, to be more specific, the deportation of black and brown immigrants, people who fled violence and came to this nation seeking a better life. The Welfare Queen tactic worked so well to shift wealth into the hands of the few that it is now being used to vilify immigrants. We hear that they are “soaking up tax dollars, afforded benefits that we are not, depleting resources meant for us…”

“Without fail, each Tax Day a prevalent myth resurfaces that conceals the truth about immigrants’ contributions to federal, state, and local taxes. Bolstered by social media and other outlets, it misleadingly asserts that immigrants, particularly those who are undocumented, evade taxes. The facts don’t back up these claims.”

The facts have never backed up these claims.

White nationalist elites are slobbering at the success of their modified Welfare Queen smear campaign, the rapid erection of concentration camps, the shameful support of their false-narrative by the court Supremes. All the while, the president and his men grift and rob us blind; his personal wealth has increased 4 billion dollars since inauguration day.

When fox news poisons the brains of their audience with a cry of “Socialism” or “Communism”, they are utilizing the same stereotype to fuel the same intention: create a fact-free-diversion by fueling fear, all the while moving the wealth of the nation – and the constitutional protections of the nation – into fewer and fewer hands.

When the current occupant of the White House and his Project 2025 co-conspirators cry that illegals are stealing our elections or that women are ruining our nation and should not have to right to vote or that people from Haiti are all rapists and riddled with AIDS…it is the same game, the same gross stereotype used to distract and deflect the public from the real rapists of our society.

It’s an age-old magician’s trick with a pickpocket intention: distract and steal.

Imagine the public good 50 trillion dollars could provide – could have provided – if it was actually dedicated to serving the public? The best healthcare for all. The best education in the world. Safe and secure bridges and roads. Stimulus for small business. World class research. A solvent social security and secure Medicare system. A stable and educated populace that would recognize when they were being fleeced.

Here’s the greater point. Terms like Welfare Queen are lobbed like bombs at us because they dehumanize people. They explode a victim fantasy in the minds of the easily distracted and render the target of their slander as less-than-somebody (“The welfare queen is taking your money!”). Sadly, in the process, we dehumanize ourselves, too. In “doing unto others,” we do the same onto ourselves. We become less than somebody, a disposable people who cannot afford housing or food or the gas in our cars. An easily controlled throw-away mass perpetually fighting each other, blind to the orange man and his tech-bro-party of urchins actively, gleefully, picking our pockets.

There is only one line remaining between our future as a class of nobodies or as a nation of somebodies, a government of, by and for the people, is to vote. Our vote in November will affirm that we are somebody – or it will deliver us into the hands of those who daily reduce us, strip us of our rights and believe we do not matter. Welfare Queen. Illegal. Antifa. Dumocrat. Loser.

Vote as if your life and our democracy depended on it – because it does.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOMEBODY

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A Butterfly On A Pin [David’s blog on KS Friday]

When you say “green,” what exactly do you mean? Each morning I stand in my backyard and marvel at the symphony of greens. The licorice plant, the tomatoes, the sweet potato vine, the ferns, the grasses, the aspen leaves…each wear a unique shade of green. Each green changes with the light. The greens are different in the morning than they are at noon and wildly different during the pre-sunset golden hour. Well…they are not different but the light changes what I perceive. The change is in me.

The change is in me.

My first line of contact with the world is my senses. Everything I know is a product of everything I have experienced and my experiences begin with my eyes, ears, nose, skin and taste buds. And then I make sense of it or at least try to makes sense of it. I build stories like, “Each green changes with the light.” In other words, the greens change while I remain unchanged. I am the center. This is the exact opposite of what happens. It’s a trick of language. I story myself as normal (Kerri will laugh hysterically when she reads that assertion!). I story myself as “right” though I also have great capacity to story myself as worthless or stupid or wishing I had kept my mouth closed.

I story other people as good or bad – a harsh and narrow measurement to be sure.

In my current story I have discovered the depths of my intolerance. I can’t understand how farmers voted again for their own demise. Since we are all suffering the impact of their support of autocracy, I have little compassion for the loss of their farms. They voted for it.

I find my intolerance necessary. And sad. These farmers are suffering accountability for their actions – for their votes – while the people who showered them with false promises and drown them in propaganda are profiting from the farmer’s loss.

I am like all others: I seek and find people and information that bolster my point of view. It feels good to feel affirmed in what I believe. Yet, what I believe – my opinions – are meritless unless grounded in fact. I have worked hard in my life to question my point of view because I was taught, as an artist who could impact the lives of others, I had a responsibility to deal in truth.

Even in writing this mind-wander about the senses and perception, it all sounds schizophrenic: seek support for what you believe and then challenge it. It’s called learning. The senses open and expand, the mind narrows and refines. It is like the tides. Open to the experience, sift it for veracity. It is how we make sense from senses.

The farmers and red-hatted others who voted for fascism would have been well served to ask a few questions before they calcified their belief and cast ballots for their own destruction. The information was readily available. They simple needed to open their eyes and exercise their minds. They only needed to take a moment – for that is all it would have taken – to challenge the gaslight.

Do you see the current scrubbing of our history? The white-washing of our national sense-making, the assault on education and educators? It’s akin to reducing all greens to a single dull shade. Do you hear the fear of the question, the fear of being questioned? Are you aware of the publication of an enemies list? Those who are exercising their first amendment rights are being branded as hostile. Do you smell the corruption? The acrid burn of our constitution? Do you taste the bitterness at the gas pump, the bitter frustration at the grocery store? Are questioning?

There is sense to be made.

Of our nation and our fear of facing our history, James Baldwin wrote: “People who imagine that history flatters them (as it does, indeed, since they wrote it) are impaled on their history like a butterfly on a pin and become incapable of seeing or changing themselves, or the world.”

EVERY BREATH on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

TAKING STOCK on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blog post about GREENS

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The Question Remains [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

It’s hard not to sift everything through the lens of current events. I mean, we are alive in the time of an AI upheaval that is at least as revolutionary to society as Guternberg’s press, all the while white-knuckling it through an attempted autocratic takeover of our democracy that Timothy Snyder calls “superpower suicide”. And we mustn’t forget climate change. How could circumstance not shade almost every decision we make?

We are living in transformational times which means we are experiencing serious upheaval. The daily ups seem higher because the daily down is without bottom.

Through social media people are sharing the sounds made by newly built data processing centers. Isn’t it ironic that the infrastructure necessary to fuel this tsunami called AI, a technology that is meant to make our lives easier, roars and thrums and not only robs communities of their peace but requires them to pay the power company for their discomfort? The price of progress? Is this a down or an up or both?

Gutenberg’s press made books available to the masses and soon transformed an illiterate populace into a literate society. The Renaissance and the Reformation would not have been possible without the press making literature and education accessible to the masses.

In his book Technopoly, Neil Postman posited that our daily glut of information would ultimately make information a form of garbage: “Because it is severed from theory, meaning, or purpose, it is incapable of answering fundamental human questions or directing coherent solutions.”

In an act of irony I asked AI to describe Neil Postman’s warning about AI: “Neil Postman warned that making information effortlessly accessible severs it from human purpose and action. He famously argued that an overwhelming glut of data creates passivity, leaving us drowning in irrelevant “disinformation” while remaining hopelessly impotent to solve real-world problems.”

Neil Postman was prophetic. His warning accurately describes our current challenge. We are drowning in irrelevance and misinformation. I cite the ballroom. We seem hopelessly impotent to solve our real-world problems but infinitely capable of creating tax breaks for the ultra-wealthy. We have lost our free press and any attachment to fact or truth. I cite the current resident of the White House, the incessant gaslighting, the party that enables him and the propaganda mechanism that stuffs his lies with credence. We are easy marks since we seek information that confirms our bias rather than accurate information that might challenge our opinions and expand our knowledge.

We are told that what goes up must come down and vice versa. The question remains: Can we survive it?

read Kerri’s blogpost about IT WILL COME BACK

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Send It Packing [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

There’s lots of silverware sets in the antique stores. The felt cases are deteriorating, the silver tarnished. They come from another era, dare I suggest, another mindset. We moderns are more interested in the latest-new. Unlike our ancestors, we’ve grown up in a world of planned obsolescence. We do not expect our appliances to last. Our children – like us – are not interested in grandma’s good china or in the fine silver. There is no place for it to go so it inevitably lands in the antique mall.

We have a different relationship with time than did our ancestors. We have a different relationship with the stuff of our lives. We need not make things last or make things that are intended to last. Central to our day-to-day functionality is technology and it rapidly changes, it is out-of-date the moment it arrives on the scene. If we are to keep up, if we are to be relevant in our world, we need to be more fluid than our predecessors. Making stuff that lasts, durability, is no longer high on the priority list. Changeability is the necessity.

I hear these questions a lot lately: How is it possible that I didn’t know that? How is it possible that I do not know the full history of this nation? It’s a question I ask myself almost daily. Oligarchs aligning with fascists to erase democracy is not new to our era. White nationalism is a river that runs through all the pages of our history book. Sadly, our present turmoil is not new. We’ve been here before. My hope is that we see it for what it is and treat it like an old silverware set. My hope is that this is the last cycle, that we are the generation that sends it packing to the antique mall. We’re not interested in passing it down or enabling another go-round. We’d like our children to have a future free of the rotting relic of racism.

Changeability is the necessity. A democracy free of the ugly hubris of the morbidly wealthy, a democracy that thrives on equality, is necessarily fluid, ever growing and adapting with the diverse nation it upholds. There is no useful place in our nation-home for the tarnished mindset of maga-white-nationalism. It is a relic. Its case is deteriorating. It needs to go.

Notion, 33″x 60″, mixed media on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GOOD SILVER

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Ready To Drop [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

When Albert was discouraged about the state of humanity he’d say, “Just drop the bomb.” Although I haven’t seen him in years I heard myself whisper his discouragement-phrase this morning. How is it possible in a democracy that one of the major parties, after their gerrymander scheme backfired, would actually legislate to make it impossibly hard for citizens to vote? The news aptly reported, “It’s a solution looking for a problem.” Voter fraud is literally nonexistent in the USA. On the other hand fearmongering is alive and well. Lying has been elevated to an art form.

“They’ve lost the plot,” I murmured. “Just drop the bomb.”

That we are witnessing our government protect an international ring of pedophiles, bomb a nation to smithereens (kill people) without a reason, assault the once-free-press because they dare to report the news, isolate itself in a global economy (otherwise known as commit economic suicide), mountain-ize our national debt to give the morbidly-wealthy more wealth while simultaneously eliminating services and erecting obstacles for the citizenry, assault the very epicenter: our right to vote in a free and fair election…it begs the question: Did they ever really believed in government by, for, and of the people? This depth of depravity did not spring fully formed from the thigh of Zeus; it took decades of dedicated decomposition to achieve this degree of stink.

Last week, before the blizzard, before the power outage, before the impossibly bent power mast, the shattered roof shingles, the driving rain that found its way into the sun room, we sat in chairs on the patio and faced the setting sun. A rare day of warmth. We knew the storms were coming so we put off our work and banked some vitamin-D. The sun dropped behind the garage. It remained pleasant. In the waning light we ate dinner on the deck.

Those moments in the sun, the decision to delay work and take advantage of the precious warmth, gave us ample fuel to weather the cold and violent storm. It refilled our hope.

Albert’s famous phrase had an attachment. He’d follow “Just drop the bomb,” with, “We don’t deserve it.” When I asked him what he meant by “it”, he’d gesture, sweeping his arms in a wide arc. “All of it.” The beauty and majesty of life. The gift of each other.

After I heard myself utter, “Just drop the bomb,” I caught myself. “We do deserve it.” We deserve decency and honesty in our leaders. We not only deserve it but should expect it. We deserve media that does not whip up straw-men to intentionally divide us. We deserve a government that serves us rather than exploits us. They have, indeed, lost the plot.

Perhaps, as history suggests, we will survive this chapter when we recognize – when our government recognizes – that the people they are meant to serve ARE the bomb. They are in our sights and we are ready to drop.

We deserve better.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SETTING SUN

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Do What You Say [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

A note to the right-wing podcast ecosystem (as inspired by the fence-sitting-squirrel, a silhouette, an image obscured by a screen):

Dear Joe Rogan and Co.: With this latest betrayal – a war declared by your America-First president – it is probably occurring to you (at long last) that you have been deceived. I understand there was already a tiny crack in your unwavering belief since you’ve recently realized that, despite his full-throated campaign promise to expose the Epstein Files, he is actually implicated in them, and will go to great lengths, even going to war, to keep them concealed. He lied to you about the Files. He lied to you about America First. He lied to you about being a champion of the little guy. I hope it is not lost on you that the Epstein Class of billionaires are enjoying their massive tax break while the rest of us are finding day-to-day life less and less affordable.

He lies. Until now, you’ve either swallowed, justified or explained away his lies. It is my hope that you are finally opening your eyes and seeing the extent and pervasiveness of his lies. He has no intention of cleaning the swamp because he is the swamp. To that end I hope you are also now growing savvy to his endless claim-without-evidence that the 2020 election was rigged. It was not. That, too, is a lie. It’s more important now than ever that you awaken to this particular lie because he is claiming that all of our elections – especially the upcoming midterms – are rigged against him.

Do you see the pattern? While he lies to you he simultaneously strips you of your rights. Due process is a right that is already violated; it either applies to all or to none-at-all. A free and fair election is also your right. Despite what he proclaims we have always enjoyed honest, safe and fair elections – until now. Mail in ballots are safe. They always have been. You can check it out if you don’t believe me. “Illegals” are not pouring over the border to vote. That’s a straw man, an intentional misrepresentation meant to deceive you and keep you angry. His latest SAVE act would block millions of voters from exercising their right to vote.

Because of the success of his incessant lies our democracy now teeters on the edge of authoritarianism. The only chance we have is to come together, guard and secure our next election. We may not agree on much but I am assuming that we can all agree that our right to vote is worth protecting. Our vote is, after all, the epicenter of our republic and the liar is moving to take that right away. To do it, to be successful, he needs you to continue to believe his lies. He needs you to forget the Epstein Files lie. He needs you to believe every lie he tells about our latest war with Iran, Venezuela and Equador. He needs you to embrace every single lie he tells about voter fraud. Most of all, he needs you to promote and spread his lies.

He needs you to consider me and those like me, progressives, as the enemy. That, too, is a lie. We have the same goal: a healthy democracy – and deserve a government that serves us and not the Epstein Class. We deserve a government that honestly debates the best path forward which requires it to deal in truth and not hide behind lies.

You have a voice, a platform. I – we- can only ask that you take an honest look at the yawning gap between what you’ve been told, what you’ve been led to believe – and what has actually transpired. We are now at war. The president is actively covering up the Epstein Files. There is no truth or proof to his claims of voter fraud.

If you desire free and fair elections this fall, we, the nation, need you to challenge the lies and speak to what you now see. We-the-people need you use your platform to protect the veracity of our elections. Literally put America first – rather than assist the liar in his authoritarian takeover – do what you say you believe and lend your voice – give your voice – to the protection our democracy.

Weeping Man, 36″x48″, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SCREEN

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Making Meaning Meaning Making [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

As I was filing my latest painting into the stacks I was suddenly overwhelmed with intense gratitude at having lived an artist’s life. My appreciation was not so much about the growing rolls and stacks of paintings but at the inner imperatives that made me throw caution to the economic wind and chase a my deeper calling. And the truth is that I never felt like I had a choice. Twice I tried to jump off the path and do something more reasonable-and-secure and both times it nearly gutted me.

Horatio reminded me of Ernest Becker’s definition of the work of an artist in his book, The Denial of Death: “The artist takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it, he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art”.

Making meaning, meaning making through color, sound, movement and word.

There’s so much in this world – in this nation at the moment – that is oppressive and cruel. None of the mean-spirited incompetence or the incessant lies or the blatant exploitation makes sense to me. Why would an entire political party participate in the cover-up of an international pedophile ring, stand solidly behind a convicted felon, a man found liable for sexual assault, an insurrectionist opening grifting the nation and bullying the world? Standing in front of an easel, working on a play or writing a daily blog – is the only way I know of making sense of it all, translating my disgust into something more useful and meaningful.

I have grown enamored of the winter reeds and grasses. On a section of a favorite trail there is an area of distressed drainage. In the summer it is a gathering place for turtles. In the winter the water freezes and the amber grasses sway on a field of blue ice and snow. It never fails to capture our attention. It never fails to bring us back to a quiet center, in touch with an enduring truth. I listen to the whisper-song of the grasses as Kerri photographs the play of colors. Standing in the mud and the cold we marvel at our good fortune.

“People create the reality they need in order to discover themselves.” ~ Ernest Becker

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GRASSES

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Our Moment [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Last night we heard a pundit say, “As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation.” It’s true. If the ICE gestapo brutalizes Minnesota into authoritarian submission without consequence, it will only be a matter of time before this ruthless regime wages war on the rest of the nation. Minnesota is our Ukraine.

As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation. In the face of this masked brutality, the best impulse of humanity is rising. The community is coalescing. People are showing up to serve and to protect their neighbors. The leaders of the state are encouraging peaceful protest. The leaders of the state are calling out the blatant lies of a sadistic administration run amok. The people are meeting the ICE gestapo in the streets demanding the return to the rule of law in the face of the government’s institutionalized lawlessness.

Jacob Frey, the mayor of Minneapolis said, “This is our moment…to meet a whole lot of hate with a whole lot of love.”

Love need not be soft. Love sometimes looks like a person unwilling to sit quietly as injustice invades their neighborhood. Love stands before a masked and armed thug and blows a whistle. Love bears witness, holding high their camera, to record a government-paid-rabble piling onto an unarmed person, pulling frightened people from their cars, gassing families in their minivans, hauling undressed elders from their home into the frigid morning. Love conceals and drives people to work. Love delivers food to people afraid to leave their houses. Love refuses to surrender personal and communal sovereignty to the assault on freedom. Love rejects the manufactured divisions of the hatemongers and race-baiters currently leading the nation and justifying cruelty.

This is our moment. Either love or hate will rule the day. As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation and Minnesota gives me hope. A whole lot of love is rising to meet the masked purveyors of hate.

*****

I wrote this post days before the masked thugs of the United States executed Alex Pretti on a street in Minneapolis for exercising his first amendment right – and then attempted to brand him as the terrorist in the story because he was exercising his second amendment right. Their message to us is clear: fear your government. Be quiet. Their message is hate-full. For Alex Pretti, for Renee Good, and all of those who, in the face of this fear, continue exercising their rights, know that there is now no greater act of love than standing up for our neighbors, for our rights. The people in Minneapolis are our neighbors. The rights under assault are our rights. There can be no greater act of love than standing up for them and with them. The time for meeting hate with love is urgent. We are out of time.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LOVE

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