In our blue bubble it is a five alarm fire and it’s all we talk about. The methodical destruction of democracy.
In the red bubble…well, given their discourse there’s nothing unusual happening. The dismantling of democracy is what they voted for. Their conversation runs the gamut from cute kittens to insta-pot recipes to hyper-patriotic remembrances. Anything but…
I’ve found in almost every case that if I try to discuss the disjoint in our bubble reality, I’m met by the red-voters with the phrase, “We don’t talk about it.” Pulling status…as if ignorance (ignoring reality) is the entrance fee to the maga-country club. Republican constituents mimicking their representatives in the House and the Senate: hear-no-evil, see-no-evil…speak-no-truth.
But what about this? It’s one example of a multitude: the first amendment protects our right to assemble and express our views through protest. The tyrant-wannabe recently posted that protesters on college campuses will be expelled or arrested and that federal funding will be withheld from universities that allow “illegal” protests [for grins, the source of my link is fox news]. And then, completely unclear on the concept (the Constitution), he thanked the people of the nation for our “attention to this matter”.
“Reality is one of the possibilities I cannot afford to ignore.” ~ Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
Given the collapsing farm markets with the annihilation of USAID, tariffs imposed on our allies, with Medicaid, Medicare, and Social Security in the DOGE crosshairs, the dedication of tax dollars to prop up crypto-currency, the Department of Education on the chopping block…the folks in my bubble ask this question each and every day: “How bad does it have to get before they realize they’ve been had?”
I, myself, have often asked this question. Today, on our trail, as we watched the sun struggle to burn through the clouds, I came to a blindingly obvious realization: consistently discarding reality is the single requirement necessary to support the despot-wannabe. Consider all that had to be ignored: rapist, felon, insurrectionist, an estimated 461,000 excess deaths from a bumbling response to the pandemic, pathological liar, twice impeached, rated among the worst presidents in our history…This is a short list of a very long, long catalogue of reality-to-disregard. In other words, the red-hats will never realize that they’ve been had because they would rather swallow a fire hose of “alternative facts” than plug into substantive reality.
I understand the desire, the hope that our family members and fox-hypnotized community members will reclaim their capacity to discern fact from fantasy but I am now convinced that we should stop waiting or hoping or investing any energy in trying to reach them. We need to stop ignoring the reality that they have no interest in fact or data or verifiable truth. They simply do not care. They simply do not want to care. To borrow a phrase from Stephen Colbert, they are so far down the “stupid hole” that no amount of rope will reach them.
We should also stop waiting for members of the Republican party to honor their oath to the Constitution. They, too, are engaged in a fantasy world of “hear no evil, see no evil.” They are studied apologists for every outrage. If rape was not a bridge-too-far, if colluding with Russia is not a deal-breaker, if the tyrannical boast about “getting things done” without the participation of Congress doesn’t set off every constitutional alarm bell in their caucus, then there is no desecration that they will not swallow, excuse or justify.
A few nights ago, in commencing his tariffs on our allies, a move that will further wreck the farm economy and our alliances, the tawny tyrant tweeted for farmers to “Have fun.”
“Of course he wrote that,” I thought. Amidst all the fun that farmers are about to have, I am certain of one reality: when they lose their farms they’ll blame Biden or Obama or the woke or the Democrats or DEI for their pain because they’ll never turn away from the fox-cult and face the fact that they’ve been had.
“Been had” is an informal idiom that means to be tricked, cheated, or deceived by someone.
reality (noun): the world or the state of things as they actually exist.
Somewhere in my past a teacher suggested that it is helpful for a writer to know to whom they are writing. Who is your audience? And more specifically, is there one person that your words are meant to reach?
The question came up for me on our trail. The snow dampens sound. Some people find a winter landscape bleak but I find it beautiful. Distinct. Thought provoking. Ideally suited for an introvert like me. Quiet life. Stands of warm sienna reeds sharp against the ice blue snow. The creaking-moan of tree limbs rubbing in the cold breeze. Perfect for inspiration and reflection.
Much is changing in the world broadly and in our world close-in. I am not writing as I once did. I am not painting like I used to. When I first began writing my audience was a community of international coaches, interculturalists, and diversity, equity and inclusion facilitators. I wrote broadly. I had points to make. A brain to flex.
Now I am bereft of answers and have only questions. Some days I write specifically – for Alex or Buffalo Bob. Some days I write for Horatio or Judy or Dwight or 20. Sometimes I write to members of my family though I know they don’t often read what I write. Sometimes I write for Kerri. Many days, probably most days, I write to myself. I reach in. I am asking myself questions about what I believe.
The people who populate my audience – my community – now and in the past – are bonded in their empathy. They care about others. They strive to make the world a better place for others. They are modest. Humble. The opposite of elitist. They are kind. They ask questions. They are thinkers who seek truth in all things; they are open hearts, open minds, with finely-tuned crap detectors. They care enough to fact-check what they hear. They are learners, curious about difference, unafraid of stepping beyond what they know. They are the people I want to hang out with.
On my walk in the snowy woods I realized that I need them now more than ever. A community that inspires hope, that fuels the creative fires burning inside of me and others. A bevy of goodhearted people I admire and believe in. A community of sanity – my community of sanity – in a country deliberately trying to lose its mind and sell its soul.
I write each day so I might sit for a few moments in the circle with these good people, whether they know it or not.
Straw man (noun) 1. an intentionally misrepresented proposition that is set up because it is easier to defeat than an opponent’s real argument. 2. a person regarded as having no substance or integrity.
Actually, there is some debate about the actual number of straws used each day in these un-United States. The number falls somewhere between 175 million and 500 million. In any case, that is a ton of straws. Literally. I know this is a scintillating topic and you cannot wait to read on but keep in mind that among the mountain of executive orders pouring from the pen of the rapist-in-chief was a “an end to the procurement and forced use of paper straws.”
Some actions are symbolic. Language matters. Within the phrase “forced use of paper straws” is found the symbolic epicenter of the red-hat movement against “woke”. Apparently children and executives across the nation have been tackled, strapped into chairs, and forced to drink through compostable straws. Of course, as reported by the fox, after the horror of their involuntary straw encounter, they were bustled down the hall for an inescapable sex change operation. Now, legislators across the land are moving to slash the rights and liberties of the masses of straw-traumatized-unwilling-newly-transgendered. Trauma heaped upon trauma all due to the brutal mandates forced on the good-righteous-christian-red-hat citizens, simply trying to save their wives and daughters from the evil woke.
It’s a stinky victim tale.
Forced use of straws. “They’re eating the dogs!” Windmills are killing whales. Even as I write this I think to myself, “No one could possibly believe this drivel.” And yet…
Dedicated victim stories need enemies. Enemy creation is the oldest motivational tool in the authoritarian handbook. The enemy need not be real. It is equally powerful if actual or imagined. History is rife with fake-enemy-creation as motivation for a gullible populace to embrace. As victims, it is a small step to inflicting righteous pain on behalf of the tyrant. And feeling good about it.
That’s the point.
The entire narrative of the current administration is an imaginary battle waged on the evil woke who are busily deconstructing the American way of life, forcing horrid paper straw use and whisking away children for sex change operations without prior parental consent. It is ironic. “Woke” is a straw man used by the authoritarian-wanna-be (a straw man, definition #2), so weak and incapable of legislating his unpopular Project 2025 agenda that he must issue mountains of executive orders – all meant to consolidate power in the executive branch while also appointing loyal doormats to the justice department and military. In the meantime the gleeful DOGE, in the name of waste, fraud and abuse (yet another straw man) hastily dismantles – well, neuters – the powers of congress. It’s the textbook creation of a fascist state.
A note to victims: please keep your eyes on the evil-woke-left as the great leader saves you from forced use of paper straws. In that way, you won’t see – until it’s too late – the conservative right hand magically dismantling democracy, stripping away your rights and torching your liberties. Any good autocrat, like a good magician, knows the power of misdirecting focus.
It’s beyond ironic: a straw man using straws as a straw man. No one could possibly believe this drivel. And yet…
After an interminable stretch of frigid days the temperatures finally rose enough to venture out. Grateful, we bundled up and headed to a trail. In the five miles we walked, on a path that is in no way remote, we saw at least 10 deer. At one point two of the herd stepped onto the path and scrutinized us. We stared at them and they stared at us.
It’s been true all my life that when animals cross my path or show up in unusual ways I take note and later research their symbolism. I like the idea that nature is communicating with me. I like the feeling that nature is sending me messages, reinforcement, guidance. Is it a game I play with myself or a core belief? I have arrived at a moment in my life-walk that I no longer need an answer to the question. I simply love the question.
We have an old wooden glider in our living room. Somehow, outdoor furniture made its way inside. We sit on it every afternoon. It’s become the place where we debrief life, where we have deep-diving conversations. Lately on the glider we’ve been unpacking the past five years. Our previous half-decade has been fraught. It has been akin to the interminable polar freeze. Sitting on the glider, wine in hand, we appreciated that the deer symbolize, among other things, new beginnings. “If one deer represents regeneration and rebirth, what might it mean that we saw so many?”
It’s an excellent question to hold in our hearts. It’s a question filled with hope in a time rife with national unrest, fear and contention. We don’t need an answer. For now – and always – it’s enough to love the question, to live into the surprise, to welcome the possibility.
Nothing brings people together in these un-United States like a natural disaster. When the forest fires rage, when the hurricanes destroy, people – at least for a few days – forget their politics, reconnect with their essence, transcend their religious doctrine, forget their biases, and reach a hand to anyone in need. Anyone. People run into fires to help other people. The only other catalyst with the power to temporarily unify us is an attack on our nation*. September 11, 2001 made us remember that we are one, a community. People ran into tall buildings without a second thought to help other people.
It’s called community.
It’s easy to use a word. It’s far more difficult to fulfill the meaning of a word. To live it. Community.
Communities divide and dissolve when the attacks come from within. Currently, we are witness to the attempted dissolution of our nation, the power of misinformation at transforming neighbors into enemies. The demonization of the “other”. To date, it seems to be working.
I wonder when the devastation of the blazing fascist fire – currently consuming democracy – sweeps across the land, from sea to shining sea, burning all in its path – if it will bring us back together or drive us to total destruction? Will we run into the fire to help or turn our backs and say, “Not my problem.” I suppose we must first see through the lies and recognize that there’s an arsonist in the White House delighting in watching our democracy-house burn.
We had to pick up a few things at Kohl’s. The tagline printed on the shopping bag stopped us in our tracks. “Your community is our community.” There couldn’t be a more potent message – a more powerful wish – for our rapidly disintegrating nation.
Yours is ours. Ours is yours. It’s called community.
“I’m keeping the bag where I can see it,” she said.
*I wrote this post before the Peep and Vice Peep, in a festival of embarrassment, ambushed Volodymyr Zelensky in the White House. Their blatant alignment with Putin is an attack on this nation and I am heartened to witness so many of us come together in support of Ukraine – which is to come together in support of our democracy and all that we value. Theirs is Ours. Ours is Theirs.
My friend Roger once said that the real problem pathological liars face is that they can never keep track of their lies so they must continually heap lie onto lie onto lie until their narrative is a tumorous absurdity. The same rule applies to the enablers of liars. They, too, must heap justification upon justification until their justifications are preposterous. Ridiculous. Harebrained.
And, so, here we are. Tumorous absurdity propped up by preposterous, ridiculous, harebrained justifications.
With a pathological liar-in-chief and his party of dancing-bear-enablers, the story gets more and more barmy. A rapist leading the charge to eliminate abuse. An oligarch profiting mightily from the government he proclaims to be cleansing of fraud. Republicans, in the name of cutting waste, race to run up the national debt to provide tax cuts for billionaires.
It leaves me wondering how much balderdash a maga-mouth can swallow, how much rubbish a fox-infused brain can justify before it (they) wake up – you know, become “woke” – to the fact that America is not being made great, it’s being plundered. When do the sheep realize that they are being fleeced?
Karl Marx called it: “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce”.
Posted on February 28, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
“You are in this time of the interim/ Where everything seems withheld./The path you took to get here has washed out;/ The way forward is still concealed from you.” John O’Donohue, Benedictus
Persephone has returned to the Underworld. Demeter, her mother, mourns and so the earth is cold. Nothing grows. It is the time of waiting. According to the bargain, after six months, Persephone will return to the upper world, Demeter will rejoice at the homecoming of her daughter, plants will flower, trees will bud, life will be restored.
It is not an accident that Persephone, the goddess who presides over death is also the goddess of fertility and new life. One complete cycle. It’s an archetype found in many cultures across our tiny planet.
This winter we’ve descended into a an especially dark season. With the firing of the military leadership, replaced by nincompoops loyal to a man rather than the constitution, the authoritarian takeover is nearly complete. Yesterday, by executive order, congress lost its power-of-the-purse. The last traces of democracy are being summarily scrubbed. The way forward?
History has taught us that these authoritarians are stuck in their adolescence. They have a bottomless hole where their hearts should be. They attempt to fill the the hole with sex or money or power or fame or alcohol or clothes or cars…It is a void that only maturity can satisfy. Maturity comes with the revelation that service to others rather than self-aggrandizement fills the hole. True to pattern, they will ultimately be consumed by the dark void in their chests, turning their power-lust on each other in a festival of self-destruction, perhaps taking our democracy with them.
And then Persephone will return.
We are in the interim. The path forward is unclear. Yet, it is still not too late to wrangle these child-minds into containment and return mature adults to the hill. Or, we can stay silent and let the children run the show. Lord of the Flies.
Either way, as order follows chaos, courage will reemerge. A new generation of leaders will find their moral center, value decency and join together, connected by service to the nation rather than self-interest. They will set about cleaning up the wreckage, sweeping up the mess. Persephone will return, Demeter will rejoice, life will bud, and perhaps our fragile democracy will be rekindled.
Posted on February 27, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
An Ode To Lift.
To raise or hoist. To heave or haul.
Dissipating fog, cloud dissolve.
Upward force, curved surface of a wing.
Pump up the volume, make eardrums ring.
Buoy the spirits, sing the reprise.
Pick a pocket; go ahead, plagiarize!
Boost the revenue, Jack-up the price.
End the embargo, melt political ice.
Stop. A thumb’s out, give it a ride.
Encouragement, boost, stimulus, pride.
“Which floor?” Push the button. Soon you’ll arrive.
***
“Lift” is one of those words. A noun and a verb. Four letters, when combined, result in many more than four definitions, some completely contradictory. Lift a spirit/Lift a wallet.
Somewhere in time, it occurred to a human mind that flight did not necessarily include flapping but the opposite. Lift. In my imagination the Wright Brothers flapped their arms in excitement when their theory took flight. Lift: the upward force that allows an aircraft to stay airborne. “The curved upper surface of a wing causes air to flow faster over the top than the bottom, resulting in lower pressure above the wing and higher pressure below, generating lift. According to Bernoulli’s principle.”
I nearly flunked physics in high school so don’t ask me to expound or explain. In fact, I try not to think about lift when I board an airplane. It’s enough to know that I am willingly entering a tube that will hurtle through space while a kind person offers me coffee and snacks from a rolling cart. I flap my arms in excitement every time the plane safely lands.
Each and every time, sitting very still, buckled into my seat, I close my eyes during the moment of lift.
And really, it all boils down to this: “People who are truly strong lift others up. People who are truly powerful bring others together.” ~ Michelle Obama
Posted on February 26, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
Call it self-preservation. With the inspiration of MM, I am compiling a mountain of cartoon ideas borne of the laugh-or-cry idiocracy currently sweeping away the nation. There seems to be no bottom to the inanity of the red-hat cult and those that they’ve elevated to power.
The abundance of comic fodder spewing forth from overly sincere conservative faces has me meditating on what makes them both so horrific and so funny. It is this: they ignore – and expect us to ignore –Occam’s Razor. The Principle of Parsimony: It’s a good rule of thumb, if sanity is the goal, to seek the simplest explanation. It is usually the best. If insanity is the aim, seek conspiracy theories and complex machinations.
Take, for instance, the fires in California. Jewish Space Lasers meet unraked forests? Or, perhaps rising global temperatures and drought are to blame? The first requires a reliance on science-fiction and a multi-layer-cake of ill-intent, stupidity and bigotry. The second relies on science. And common sense.
Or, consider this snicker-worthy intrigue: Did the COVID-19 vaccine included microchips capable of tracking people? Or, was it protecting citizens from a raging pandemic? Again, the first requires a madcap sci-fi dystopian fantasy. Occum’s Razor would have us tip toward the reality of science responding to the pandemic. (note: if you use a cell phone or shop on line, there’s no need to vaccinate a chip into your body since you are infinitely locate-able. Google maps already knows where you are since getting you from point A to point B requires, well, knowing where you are…).
The red hats are awash in conspiracy theories. The fox revels in fueling the fantastic and muddling the minds of the easily led. In my comic-thought the actual red hats are lined with tin-foil to protect their brains from alien mind control. That, and better ham radio reception.
I suppose if human beings are capable of believing that the earth is flat, that climate change is a hoax, that the massacre of children at Sandy Hook Elementary was a scam, that Democrats are drinking baby’s blood beneath the streets of Washington D.C…they are also capable of believing in the big boogeyman, the Deep State. It’s the reason we’re been force-fed for the dismantling of our Democracy. Woke waste and fraud! George Soros secretly controlling the world’s economy! Lions and tigers and bears! Oh, my!
It is worthy of cartooning and lampooning. Or a good cry.
This just in from historian Heather Cox Richardson: “…the relative stability of American democracy in the late twentieth century allowed politicians to win office with the narrative that the government was stifling individualism, taking money from hardworking taxpayers to provide benefits to the undeserving…But the Trump administration’s massive and random cuts to the federal workforce are revealing that the narrative of government waste does not line up with reality.“
Does not line up with reality. Occum’s Razor. It’s the simplest explanation for how we find ourselves in an era dominated by lies and lunacy. It’s a rich (and increasingly sad) field of cartooning possibilities.
The Direction of Intention 