“Let us realize that the arch of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
~ MLK
I know. You don’t come here to read about politics, and believe me, I don’t come here to write about it.
I like observational humor. I like looking at the ordinary and finding the funny. Trust me, I tried to write funny, but talking about anything else besides the elephant in the room right now feels trite.
You don’t come here to have smoke blown up your ass either. So I won’t bother, as fun as that sounds.
I’m just like you. My chest has felt heavy since Friday. Since that snake of a woman Susan Collins made her case for the Judge to become a Justice. I had no words (rare) and I wanted to cry (not so rare these days).
It felt like a giant GOP elephant had set up camp between my boobs. Now that’s funny. That these days picturing the symbol of the party of the Moral Majority and Christian, family values tangling with my tits seems… normal… excusable… like “so last Tuesday”.
My how things have changed.
I’m pissed. I’m sad and I’m discouraged, and I’m looking for a fight.
I’m a fist in search of a face
A scream in search of an ear.
A belief in search of a…what? A mind to change?
I learned a long time ago that you can’t yell somebody into your way of thinking. By the way, that’s a lesson the old white guys in politics have yet to learn; ‘cause if women loves one thing—it’s a man screaming in her face. Mansplaining. It doesn’t work. It makes you look ridiculous. Use your words, fellas. You’re overreacting. You seem hysterical. (Sound familiar?)
So, I turned off cable news this weekend. And I silenced my phone. I made the radical choice to tune-out.
Not forever. Just for now.
I lost myself in Bradley Cooper’s periwinkle-blue eyes and fantasized that he was singing love songs just to me.
I chose to be happy.
When someone texted me the final vote, that fucking elephant did the Macarena, which caused me to grab my chest. The pain was real. Until finally, I told it to scram! Knock it off! Enough is enough! I refuse to live at the whim of some boob dwelling pachyderm.
I needed the distance so I could reclaim my balance. Because I know how this shit goes.
Listen, I’m not gonna sugar coat it. We’re in store for some real, fall-face-first-on-the floor, big changes in the not-so-distant future. Some that could hurt women and hopefully some that could bend the moral universe toward justice.
You guys, you wanna know what I see? I see women in positions of power! Lots of ‘um!
And if I know one thing for sure, it’s that equalizing the playing field at the highest levels of power has been a long time coming. I also know that we, as humans, don’t make huge, paradigm shifting changes when things are going well. We fence sit, scrapbook, and make friends with the status quo.
But when shit gets real? When you fuck with us women? Well, you had better brace yourselves for some real and LASTING change.
Ladies. And you decent, tender hearted men. This is exactly what we’ve been waiting for. It had to get this bad to get us off the sidelines and fight.
We may have lost this battle, that is true. But we have NOT lost the fight. Trust me. It may look bleak right now, but I think this has changed the trajectory of history in our favor. I believe we’ll look back at this time as the beginning of the DECADE OF THE WOMAN. Or the CENTURY of THE WOMAN.
And it’s about fucking time.
Carry on,
xox
