After the fire, there is a moment, when the veils have been burnt away, and you see the world anew. The people you thought you knew, you realize were not who you thought they were. The friends you thought you had, were not. In the aftermath, you find you have to rebuild. Knowing what you now know, you realize, who was really there for you, who reached out, who supported you. Knowing that, you can sink your foundations deeper, or take what cloth remains and make a sail to fly away on. There is always a new dawn, though the earth may have shifted beneath your feet. People who survived police violence, can never quite view police the same way again. People attacked by racists, can have a hard time trusting others again. But the fact is now you know that that evil exists. It is not an abstract thing. You have had a glimpse into a small part of it, but were protected as well by your white privilege. Learn from that, and plant new seeds and grow.
Ok, let me explain my earlier post about silence. There are events that happen in my city that I call “poverty porn” They occur when outsiders come in to lead some type of event that is out of context, out of character, and/or belittling to the people who actually live in the community. These people mean well, but belittle those they try to help or support. A year or so ago, I joined such a group to go look for a lost person. It was on a street I have been on many times (because I get around a lot). The leaders treated it like an armed exhibition into a war zone, carried a gun and wore a flack jacket. I have been on that same street many times. It was overkill and it was poverty porn. The suburban volunteers I am sure got a thrill, similar to the thrill someone gets watching porn, something illicit, something not safe. I left after 10 minutes. When I left, it caused consternation because they felt they had to escort me to my own car half a block away.
Today there was a ride in honor of Daniel Prude. It was a silent ride. I joined late and did not realize it was a silent ride. So clearly blame me. The ride headed down Jefferson Avenue. So you have a lot of bikers, with very few people of color, riding expensive bikes, some in full bike gear down Jefferson, which has been the central point of the BLM rallies. As we ride, one of the older black men who hang out regularly by School 4 asks for some pocket change from the riders and says as I pass “I actually live here.” I see that same group of neighborhood elders regularly on my bike ride home.
When we get to the corner where he died for some reason we stop. The leaders of the ride all jump off their bikes to take selfies with his memorial. One of the actual BLM protest leaders was there early and tried to get us to chant. These are the same chants used at every protest. She needed us to chant and be loud. The three teenage girls who live two doors down wanted us to chant. They have seen a week of protests. They live right there. They needed us to recognize what had happened here. The young lady half out of her car half a black down wanted us to chant, to say his name. They all tried to lead us in the chants, which by now, are like saying a prayer. At that point few did. The neighborhood was saying we don’t want silence. We want noise. If you are going to come tour our neighborhood then join us in our grief. Say his name…… Say our name. What this was, was another example of poverty porn. The riders got a little thrill going by the place Daniel Prude died. They thought they were doing something by riding in silence to honor him. The community on the street, however, wanted to hear our voices and to have our voices join in their anger and in their grief. “I actually live here.” Instead, they got silent tourists enjoying the thrill of seeing the site of a snuff film.
There are times and places for silent rides. This, however, when the wound was so deep was not one of them. If you want to take a selfie of a memorial come anytime, but try doing it during a protest the people actually want to see and hear. Say his name… Daniel Prude, No justice ……… …….
Last night 9/6/2020 (Sunday) is a night many in the community will wrongly sing Kumbayah about. The marchers for Daniel Prude were allowed to march to the Public Safety Building. The police were hardly present.
So why wrongly?
Because, this is not a game of capture the flag. The Public Safety Building does not contain the Ark of the Covenant. It is an administrative building, and yes a symbol. If it was a game of capture the flag, then in the RPD conceded the field.
So what was accomplished, at a basic level, the RPD ‘allowed’ the marchers to assert their/our basic constitutional right to freedom of assembly. That was it. After two days of using military equipment, weapons, etc… on protestors, attacking using weapons against, injuring without provocation, and denying that basic constitutional right, they conceded the field. But in the words of Don McLean
“We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance ‘
Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day” Daniel Prude died?
This is about much more than a game of capture the flag. This is about the need for systemic reform of policing in Rochester. This is about Black Lives Matter. This is about institutional racism in our policing, in our government, in our school systems, in our city/suburban relationships, in our housing, in our press coverage (with some notable exceptions), and in our health care. This is not about a building. It never was. It’s about what happens in the building, in the Hall of Justice next door, in the jail behind that building, in the RCSD administrative building a block away. It’s about what does and does not happen in Pittsford, in Greece, and in all of those other suburbs.
This is really about the fact that when I wear my BLM shirt white people can not see it, talk about it, acknowledge it, as if it did not exist, and at the same time people of color love it and me when I wear it. One group can’t see it, one totally embraces it. Until my fellow white people can see it, the march is not over. But this is ultimately not about white people. They are fine with the system as it is, they cocreated that system. This is about many things but in part, it is about “equal justice under law” The words on the supreme court building, it is making sure the color of your skin, your gender, your sexual orientation, your disability does not condemn you to less. It is about forcing white people to acknowledge that shirt and what it means.
This is about so much more than a building. All we “won” back last night was our constitutional right to freedom of assembly.
Since a few days before the Election day over 50,000 Americans have died from Covid-19. Currently the total US deaths is 281,121. Across the globe 1.5 million people have died. The response from Trump and his administration has been zero. He is, as I write this, at a rally in Georgia, ostensibly to promote two Republican Senators, but really to just stroke his ego. Pictures show crowds with no social distancing and no masks. It is another super spreader event brought on by an evil man.
Going back it is completely striking how wrong Trump and his administration have been in pretty much everything they have done and not done. This is a simple comparison just look at any other country on Earth. Yes, Virginia we are exceptional, but only in this regard in all the wrong ways.
On 3/31/2020 the IHME model, the model used by the White House, predicted a total of 83,967 COVID-19 deaths (range of 36,614 to 152,582) through the end of the epidemic’s first wave. The 83,967 number was passed the week of 5/11/2020 and the 152,582 number by the week of 7/29/2020.
The Model on 4/30/2020 predicted 70,044 deaths by 8/4/2020 and total deaths of 115,000. The 70,000 was passed the week of 5/5/2020 and 115,000 by the week of 6/7/2020.
The Model on 7/29/2020 predicted 219,864 deaths by 11/1/2020, that was passed by 10/19/2020.
The most current model based on data from 11/18/2020 calls for 538,893 deaths with a top range on 770,234 deaths by 4/1/2021.
The effect of Thanksgiving may only just now beginning to be felt, but right now 10,000 Americans have died in just four days. Again about 50,000 Americans have died since election day. This is the most incompetent American Administration in our history. There are about 55 days left in the Trump Presidency. At the current rate of deaths, another 110,000 American’s will be dead by the time Biden is sworn into office. The rate of deaths will increase due to Thanksgiving, so there will likely be more than that. That would get us 390,000 US deaths. The IHME model based on data from 11/18/2020, which is old, predicts 404,266 deaths by the time Biden is sworn into office.
It is important to remember that most officials think that all these numbers are missing anywhere from 10,000 to 100,000 deaths.
The following are screen shots from the IHME which it the institute that the US has used for COVID-19 mitigation. The models show that the US government and individual States have completely failed to protect US citizens.
Model 3/31/2020
On 3/31/2020 the IHME model predicted a total of 83,967 COVID-19 deaths (range of 36,614 to 152,582) through the end of the epidemic’s first wave.
That number was passed the week of 5/11/2020.
Deaths per day predicted on 4/30/2020
The Model on 4/30/2020 predicted 70,044 deaths by 8/4/2020 and a total deaths of 115,000. We passed 70,000 the week of 5/5/2020 and 115,000 by the week of 6/7/2020.
70,000 US Deaths was passed on 5/5/2020
The Models on 5/6/2020 predicted 92,674 deaths by 8/1 and a worse case total of 240,000. We passed 92,000 by the week of 5/18/2020, and 240,000 on the week of 11/11/2020.
America was at 130,000 by July 4th.
Model 6/25/2020
America passed 180,000 deaths on 8/27/2020
The Model on 7/29/2020 predicted 219,864 deaths by 11/1/2020 we passed that by 10/19/2020.
I often find myself on this side of an invisible line, while the vast majority of my family, friends, and neighbors are on the other side. Listening to a recent interview with Kae Tempest, the English Poet, they were referred to as a prophetess. I am not a prophet but I can relate to what they discuss
On being described as a “prophetess” by Amy Ray As they stated, “For writers, we pay extreme attention — this is what I’m saying about this decision to pay particular attention. And when you do that, what you access is the present but what it looks like and reads like is prescience. It looks like you’re talking about the future, but actually you’re just paying attention to the present, and it happens all the time when you read novels or you listen to lyrics by people that are afflicted with the burden of being somebody who notices in such sharp frequencies what’s going on. Then you explain it and you get it out of you and it seems like you’re talking about future but you’re not; you’re just describing the moment.”
What this means is that I spend my time looking at things that most people are not aware of. I look at you driving your car, and I see how that is going to directly impact my grandchildren’s climate future. I see you saying how you want to buy a house in the least diverse suburb and I see the future for your children growing up in that setting. I see a neighborhood and I see all of the patterns of exclusion and redlining and government policies that have resulted in it being ‘miraculously’ almost all white or not. I know there was nothing miraculous about it. Going back farther I know that the Seneca Indians had villages here, but there are now no traces, what traumas made that happen? I do not know? Do I want to? I see a patient and see their disabilities and I see countless probable futures that depend on what actions are taken or not taken today to address them.
The thing is most of what I see right now is not good. It is scary as hell. I feel like the person who knows the monster is coming and they will be here in the next five panels of this comic book and I want to scream a warning, but because it is not here yet, no-one will believe me. I often socially find myself in situations where people don’t believe me. I try not to talk at parties, because if I open my mouth, I might scream.
There are so many connections pointing to the direct impact of climate change on each and everyone of us, but because America’s news media is totally focused on the latest tweet of our idiot in chief, they never show the flooding, the storms, the heat waves, the infestations, the deaths, the loss of glaciers which will impact every life that currently depends on that glacier melt for life. It is all there, but no one is putting the pieces together to show all of us that driving that car and burning that gas to go a fucking quarter of a mile, is just making the whole situation that much worse.
I see color and I see systematic racism. I see from my male white middle class eyes, how systemic racism has shaped my entire community and how it is so fucking obvious but when I point it out to another white person it is like I am talking about a color they can not see. It is as if half our country insists on being literally color blind and they actively deny the existence of red and green. Meanwhile people of color are like, can you actually believe this shit?
I see homeless people. You drive by them and somehow do not see them, but I see them and their stories. I talk with them, I give them support when I can. I just discovered winter solstice services that honor the deaths of homeless people in a community and wonder how I did not know this and pledge to attend next years.
In the same way I see new immigrant families, not nearly as many now after three years of this awful presidency and its policies. I have sat in their houses, and I have heard their stories. I know in the words of Warsan Shire that “you don’t leave home unless home is the mouth of a shark.” I have looked into the mouth of those sharks working with these families, we have counted the bodies together, I have sat while they cried about their murdered family members.
I see food waste, I see factory farming. You eat that hot dog and I see how that pig was raised and slaughtered, I also see how pigs are smarter than 5 year old children. Would you eat a 5 year old child? You eat that chicken and I see how it was raised and never saw the light of day in that hot, hot building in which it was raised, lived, and killed, and I think your a Christian, Jew, Muslim, and it was one of God’s creations, how?
I see the religious right saying “oh 170,000 dead American’s from a flu (just insert the latest number there), they were going to die anyway, but we will fight tooth and nail to protect unborn children. I see this is not about life, it is about misogyny and patriarchy and about controlling women’s bodies. If you cared, you would be at the border freeing migrant and immigrant children from our modern concentration camps, because is that not what Jesus would do?
I see female genital mutilation and the fact that it is largely done by women to their children or grandchildren and I see the hands of the patriarchy and how when you are raised in a stew of patriarchy and misogyny that it flavors you. If flavors you to the point that you can not smell the stench on yourself.
As you can see, I see dead people. I see you on the other side of this line, and I often wish, I could still be on that side of that line with you. Then I realize that that world is a fantasy. Enjoy it. The monster is now only two three colored panels away, it will be here soon.
There was a beautiful fairy house. The children had worked on it together for a number of days. They were making it for a special person, their grandmother. She of warm hugs, fun stories, and lots of energy. She of the kind face and heart.
The children gathered and worked and decorated, but all the time although they thought they were making a normal fairy house, just a fun and nice decoration, they did not realize that people are made of stardust. That when you work together, and love together, that sometimes in the making of things, particularly presents for someone you love, that sometimes, some of your stardust rubs off on the thing you make. Now, if only one or two people work together, this is not a problem, but when you have five or six or more, then that stardust gathers. It gathers and sometimes ends up inside the thing you are making.
So it was that that fairy house was embedded with stardust, and not just any old stardust. This was some of the rarest and most powerful stardust, that comes from the oldest stars, the ones that are from the love of grandchildren and grandparents. Each child, though they did not know it, left some of that stardust in the fairy house. If they had tasted a little of that fairy dust, they would have recognized it, because it tastes a bit like warm cookies on a cold winter night and a blanket and a good book, just exciting enough but not to scary, and if it is just the right kind, like a dog’s kiss just in the middle of the one scary part in that book.
Now that, all by itself, a little stardust is not usually a problem. A little stardust is a good thing. But at this time, Titania, the queen of fairy was looking for a new home. She and Oberon, the King of fairy, had decided their old fairy house was too small, and they were on the hunt for a new one. In the woods where they were living, they sensed a powerful magic made of stardust and love very far away. So they quickly made a fairy circle, and found that house. Shrinking themselves, because the King and Queen of fairy are larger than regular fairies, they found they loved it. So before the moon set, they captured some moon beams and hooked that fairy house up to a passing star and spirited it away to Fairy.
They are living in it now, and when they go to sleep feeling a little bit of a cuddle, a good book and a dog kiss.
So when next they design a fairy house, be careful to just let a little stardust fall upon it, because otherwise some other fairy may decide to spirit it away.
When the wind blows hard across the plain, the long grass may bend with each gust, but between gusts, it is already rising again. When the farmer comes to cut that field, because its roots have been tested and grown deep into the soil, it grows back. When the farmer comes and digs up its roots and throws it on the now empty plain to let it shrivel in the bleaching sun, it’s seeds have already spread to oh so many other places.
Everything you have likely heard about voting is wrong. Voting is the single most important and powerful thing you can do to change your life, improve your neighborhood, and ensure a better future for your children, grandchildren, and relatives. The second most important and powerful thing is the fill out your census form. Now you may have heard all the lies and bullshit about ‘your vote does not matter’, ‘both candidates are crooks’, ‘its a broken system’, etc…etc…etc… The people telling you those things are not your friends. The people telling you those things and other lies are idiots or secretly want to keep you down. Voting is pure power. There are millions and millions of dollars being spent right now with the simple goal to keep you from voting, and if that does not work, to get you to not vote for a specific candidate. Why would people spend millions and the country billions to get you to not vote, if it was not important? Voting is pure power, again voting is pure superpower. Don’t let anyone take your power away from you. Don’t buy that poisoned pill from the neighborhood dealer. They want to keep you down and under their feet.
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