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Posts Tagged ‘hate’

Trump’s press conference this week was infuriating to watch. But his lack of sense, the fact that he is unhinged, it’s all clear.
Yes, there is no bottom, but this is no longer sustainable. The GOP should be figuring out how to get Trump out of office immediately.
I don’t believe we will become Nazi Germany any time soon. Outing this behavior, getting the truth of the hate out in the open is a good thing.
Those who cannot let go of their hate and fear of “other” will have to repent, rethink, reform or crawl back into the dark caverns of the past, the dimly lit spaces where women aren’t free to do what they want with their own god-given bodies and functions.
Let the haters crawl back to their primitive, brutish spaces and admire their symbols and guns, their textbooks purged of truth and science.
Let them allow their children to handle weapons unsafely, adding to statistics of senseless deaths. Yes, keep clutching your AK-47s. Carry your handguns into your neighborhood grocery stores. Your votes for Trump are outed. It has been nothing more than misogyny, racism, anti-semitism, and gay-bashing after all. We have known this since before the election, we knew as we watched him incite violence at his own gatherings, cowering away in fear from what he created, being shuffled off the stage by his own white guards.
I believe we are at a turning point of our country coming to a better place, where our history of rape and lynchings, and the torture and killing of people with dark skin will come to light.
We need to face these facts and allow ourselves to be the subject of anger. We are human and we are capable of listening to what we’ve done.                                                           Show me, I am teachable.
The unleashing of anger from the side of hate and ignorance is a death cry. Hate gasps for air.

There have been horrible casualties and I fear there will be more, whether in the form of poorly-supported and angry, fearful police or blatant, ignorant racists with swastika tattoos. But change is at our feet and We Who Believe in the Good of the Human Spirit will prevail.
I thought living through Viet Nam as a little girl was the shit. I thought the tanks down at the end of my street in Detroit in 1968 with my mother clutching me to her legs was something that meant equality would now have a new life, that breath would come into our country, that peace was going to mean something. I thought that we had evolved. I was only 5, I forgive myself my ignorance and I see now. I keep seeing the work at the gate of my heart.
We are at the precipice of great change. Our country is begging for us to see clearly and to face up to our history.
LOOK at photographs of lynchings; by christ, this is what happened, not long ago, in our country.
THIS IS OUR HERITAGE UNLESS WE DENOUNCE IT.
It is time to let go. Take down the symbols and call the generals by name: RACIST. HATER. SLAVE OWNER. RAPIST.
Heal these wounds with action, tear down the statues, let freedom glide into us, pore by pore, soul by soul.
A slow ocean wave will come. I trust that you will be with me to receive it.

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Hatred does not cease through hatred at any time. Hatred ceases through love. This is an unalterable law. Buddha

I didn’t know what other song to post.

I’m still appalled and angry and saddened and shocked.

Being born in 1963, I was subject to the zeitgeist of peace protests and the anti-war movement. I am not too sure how much came from my parents because even though they were Democrats and they hated Nixon, they were also Establishment and European and warned us of “hippies” and counter-culture types with long hair. I remember hints of racism in spite of their liberal views and in spite of our racially-mixed neighborhood in Detroit.

I watched TV yesterday for a while until the commentators took over and wouldn’t allow for even another hour or two of family members reading off the names of those killed. I loved hearing the names read off without interruption. I didn’t want to hear the politicians speak their speeches; I didn’t want to hear a poem; I didn’t even want to hear Yo Yo Ma play his cello.

I am not sure who the day belonged to.

I keep wondering how much money it takes to run the waterfall. I keep thinking about waste. I keep thinking about pride and its foil, humility. I keep thinking about our bodies and the pain of having a complex nervous system. I keep thinking about war and Elvis Costello’s words from “The Scarlet Tide:”

Man goes beyond his own decision/Gets caught up in the mechanism/Of swindlers who act like kings/And brokers who break everything

I think of Cheney and Halliburton and the billions of dollars made, wasted. And the extremists who visited strip joints in Florida when they trained to fly the planes. Guns produced by one country and sold to another. What difference does it make? Someone profits and a lot of people suffer.

And this one: why can’t men get their personal shit together and stop acting out? Why do people need to couch their hate in something larger than themselves?

The memorial looks beautiful and fitting and I’m glad it’s there and we’ll probably hop down to the city to see it, soon I hope, in the fall.

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