I Don’t Know How We Vote Ourselves Out Of This.

The above photo on the left is Renee Nicole Good, the 37-year-old mother who was murdered on January 7th in Minneapolis by ICE Agent Jonathan Ross. The photo on the right is bystander video at the scene, when she was shot in the face point blank.

Today, JD Vance shared a video, claiming that it proves that Ross was in fear for his life, and that Good was trying to run him down. The video shows nothing of the sort. It shows her turning the vehicle away from Ross (who is the one filming), and saying what turned out to be her final words: “I’m not mad at you, dude.” Ross then shoots repeatedly into her head. Afterward, he can be heard saying “fucking bitch.”

I’m not going to share the video. It can easily be found, if you so choose. But I’ve got to say this: in what world could anyone watch that and think it justified what happened? And it’s not just Vance (and other members of the Trump regime). It’s regular American citizens as well. I’ve seen comments posted to news stories where Americans are claiming it was justified, that she “fucked around and found out”, that she was “asking for it”, and even worse, mocking her death with glee that an ideological “enemy” was slaughtered.

I can’t see a way out of this. The only real power we have is our vote…11 months from now. God only knows what further horrific outrage will occur during those 11 long months… but even with a vote forthcoming, how do we vote ourselves out of this, when millions of our fellow citizens are eager to excuse the murder of their opponents… if not outright celebrate it? How the hell does voting fix that?

Dark times are ahead, folks. I wish I was more optimistic, but I’m not. All I see coming is violence and pain, and what might be the total collapse of a nation… and a not-small part of me worries that the collapse has already happened, and we’re all too shell-shocked to realize it.

It’s fucking hard to keep doing what I do, making distractions to entertain people with fantasy worlds. I know that in the broader scope of things, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. But it’s what I know how to do, and so I keep doing it — like a zombie going through the motions because it doesn’t realize it’s already dead.

Tell your loved ones that they matter. Hold them close. Right now, it may be all we have left.

GOP Delenda Est

In the Debates held in the Roman Senate prior to the Third Punic War (149–146 BC) between Rome and Carthage, Cato the Censor is said to have uttered the phrase “Carthago Delenda Est” — Carthage must be destroyed.

The time has come for the Republican Party to also be left to the ash heap of history, after inciting and encouraging the failed (for now) coup attempt of 6th January 2021. Because that’s what it was, despite our media’s desperate attempts to call it anything else, for fear of being labeled “liberal” or “fake news.” An armed insurrection with the goal of overthrowing the results of a free election, and installing a leader of their choosing. That is the textbook definition of a coup.

Continue reading “GOP Delenda Est”

Should Old Acquaintance (and 2017) Be Forgot…

2017.

Yeah. We all know where this is going, right?

I wasn’t even sure if I was going to bother with an end-of-the-year post this year. Yet, here I am, mostly out of a sense of obligation: I pay for this site, and I’ve barely used it this year, and that (like so much else) needs to change.

I’m certainly not sure that I have much to say here beyond what many others have confirmed: this was a rough one. We thought 2016 was bad — losing beloved artists, and the gut-punch of the worst third of our nation saddling the world with a fascist government in America.

2017 was worse. We can now all say with certainty that we know what it’s like to live through an entire country having a nervous breakdown. It turns out that having the fight-or-flight response of our brains constantly firing through out an entire year isn’t good for us. Outrage after outrage, constant, desperate pleading with our elected representatives to not destroy our health care, our incomes, our lives. It takes a toll.

Every colleague I have whose job involves creative endeavor — books, games, comics, music, art — all reported the same thing. They dragged through this year, barely able to produce. Constantly in existential dread of what they’d lose next. Daily worry about just staying alive. Through it all, the barbaric minority brayed their triumph, even when the government they inflicted upon us enacted policies which kicked *them* in the face, too — they sneered through the bloody, broken ruins of their mouths, taking their pleasure in the fact that WE were hurting. And the media continued their ridiculous assertion that we need to somehow reach out and try to understand that kind of unreasoning hatred.

It would be easy for me to assemble a list of the violations of this past year, and the people that have been lost. Far too easy.

As I sit here, I instead try to summon up those things which were shining stars of happiness in the darkness of 2017. Another year cancer-free. My younger daughter’s wedding. Getting the opportunity to do official work on properties which shaped me as a child — Star Wars and Star Trek. My eldest starting her career with a prestigious law firm. Continued progress, through the invaluable support of my business partner Eric Trautmann in getting our publishing operation, Adamant Entertainment, back on track with regular releases. Being able to help my son figure things out.

In a lot of ways, just making it through the year seems like no small triumph.

A line in Star Wars: The Last Jedi sums up my feelings about the past few years, and the future: “Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you were meant to be.”

I have plans — I guess they could even be considered resolutions — for 2018. But generally, I prefer to think of them as hopes. Hoping that things work out. Hoping that my resolve to accomplish things stays strong at a time when the world seems to batter down our defenses daily. To fuel that resolve, I’m taking the fact that we made it through 2017. To look 2018 in the eye, and say “I faced down worse than you.”

Last year, I said that I was taking David Bowie as my Patron Saint for the year, as a reminder to never stop creating. I didn’t stop — although I certainly didn’t accomplish everything that I wanted to. But I kept treading water, and didn’t drown. This year, though, I need to do more than that. Getting through isn’t enough. To reclaim some sense of normalcy — personally, professionally, politically — will require that we be heroes. To actively drive back the dark. We spent a year on the ropes, covering up and taking the punches. Now we come out swinging.

Here’s to 2018, everyone. Get ready.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tgcc5V9Hu3g