#and there's so many oppressed people out there who refuse to lose themselves to appease their oppressors

[penwrythe]

Getting extremely restless about what's happening in the world with so much violence against BIPOC. I hate this war, this destruction of so many Palestinian lives. I hate the machine of colonization and oppression ruthlessly destroying lives.

I wish I could do more. But at least with memory that I remember those who spoke about their struggles, their fight, and their hope. I stand with Palestine. May one day you all be free.

[whitehotharlots]

Elizabeth Warren is a weak candidate

It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year.

Last October, prospective presidential candidate Liz Warren stopped by the ur-#Resistance podcast Pod Save America, a program in which several former Obama staffers named John talk about which Gryffindor house Trump administration members belong to, and helpfully explain why Andrew Cuomo is actually way more progressive than Cynthia Nixon. They talked about how Trump had taunted Senator Warren by referring to her as Pocahontas, a cruel play on her claim to Native American heritage. Why, they asked, don’t you try and shut that bully up? Why not take this test from our eugenicist friends at 23 and Me? 

“By golly,” said Liz. “That sounds like a real dandy of an idea!”

Now… this is actually stupider than the mainstream narrative suggests. Because even though it turned out Liz had a smaller percentage of Native American DNA than basically every other American white person, simply taking the test reified an offensive precedent of blood quantum, which is more or less universally rejected among actual Native Americans. Even if it turned out she was 50% Cherokee and had little feathers floating in her piss, the entire spectacle still would have made a mockery of the intense, material struggles faced by Native Americans to this day. 

Now, normally on this blog, I’d go on for several paragraphs about how I don’t actually care about Warren’s heritage (I don’t), how it’s more important to note that she and the rest of the Democratic establishment only care about Native issues to the extent to which they can exploit them, how her refusal to take a stand against DAPL was not just concerning but disgusting, how she can write as many “Pow Wow” recipes as she pleases but at the end of the day she’ll just be another shitty Democrat who expresses solidarity with oppressed people but does nothing to prevent their water being poisoned or their land befouled. But that’s jumping the gun. We’ll only have to worry about being gravely disappointed by Warren if she manages to beat Trump in general election. And I’m sorry to tell you, but she doesn’t have what it takes to get that done.

Warren is a goon. I’m sorry, but she is. She can’t answer softball questions about her recent political history without coming across like a teen who was just caught shoplifting and has been asked why there’s Playstation-sized bulge beneath his shirt. (“D-did I support gay marriage? Well, umm, jeeze louise who can remember something like that? Uhhh. There might be notes? Maybe? But there isn’t. So, I… I guess, well, who can say, really?”)

Warren isn’t nearly as a self-certain as Hillary was, and that’s a problem. It wouldn't be a problem if she actually were a leftist and actually did plan on proffering material solutions to the material problems facing nearly every American. But she’s not. Policy-wise, she is somewhat better than Hillary or Biden. That’s fine. But that’s not enough. She’s already spent too much time courting the Democratic establishment and their corporate base. She knows, therefore, that when a dying cancer patient asks her if she supports Medicare For All, that she has no choice but to lie to his face, that she’s prioritizing corporate cash over helping suffering people, but she lacks Hillary’s soulless cruelty and so she can’t simply laugh away the man’s concerns as naive bro stuff. This causes her to stutter and panic, which makes her (rightfully) appear disingenuous. 

Warren’s plans are likewise a degree or two more progressive than what was being offered by Hillary in 2016. But they’re not straightforward. They are cloaked in the maddening layers of equivocations, loopholes, and means testing that have infected every Democratic proposal since the early 90’s. This is the unavoidable consequence of party seeking to appease two diametrically opposed interests. You can’t satisfy the profligacy of capital while helping everyday people. It cannot be done. And so Democrats rely on Rube Goldberg-style labyrinth policies to obscure this fact, to make it look like they’re trying to help when actually they’re not, they are at best attempting to add a little sugar to the arsenic so that we won’t fight back so much when they pour it down our throats.

Obama could pull this off. We all knew Obama was lying in 2012, but he was appealing enough to make us rationalize away his lies. Same thing with Bill Clinton. If you’re not old enough to remember, check out this debate clip. The man looked like he was going to crawl through your TV and fuck you, and most of us were cool with that. Hillary lacked this appeal. Warren lacks it even moreso. And, yes, I guess this is essentially affective and subjective--just my opinion and whatfor. But any soberheaded person should be troubled by the fact that Warren’s campaign as already absorbed the most viscerally annoying people from the Hillary campaign, and is already aping HRC’s most repulsive and alienating tactics.  

These are people like Sady Doyle and Amanda Marcotte: neurotic, celibate scolds who engage with politics primarily as a way to actualize their petty grievances and insecurities. These people are incredibly unappealing to everyone who isn’t immediately inclined to like them, which is about 90% of the American electorate. And this unappealingness has nothing to do with their gender or their physical appearance. It’s because they are liars who are running a manifestly cynical grift, and they don’t have enough charm or intelligence to trick voters into thinking they’re doing something else.  They are electoral poison, and their outsize presence with the Democrat establishment is a big reason why the Democrats get their asses beat so consistently even though they are supported unanimously by the American media and cultural classes. 

Their grossness was encapsulated very succinctly yesterday, in the misadventures of Ms. Ashlee Preston. Preston is a large black trans woman who works as an official Warren campaign surrogate. She took to twitter to do what these people do: lie about Bernie Sanders and his supporters. They need to lie, because they are working for a candidate who is manifestly more regressive and less electable than him, but they still want to position themselves as the most radical in the field. So she lied. She said that Sanders hadn’t done anything to support gay rights since the 70’s, and that therefore it was actually good that Warren voted for Reagan twice during the AIDS crisis, because that means she grew into her present woke state.

This was all par for the course. Liars lie. Preston is paid to lie. So she lied. 

Also par for the course: Bernie supporters asking her what on earth she was talking about, and doing so politely. And then, once again par for the course, the liar claiming to have been viciously harassed by Bernie Bros, which is meant to validate the lies that warranted the response--which actually wasn’t a lie since it was just, like, sarcasm that y’all folx was too hateful to understand. 

This process has been going on pretty much non-stop since the middle of 2015. Anyone who pays cursory attention to it knows what’s happening, but the weird rules of political decorum make it so we all have to pretend to take it seriously. But yesterday there was a twist. Preston, apparently, had a bunch of semi-coherent tweets in which she said all kinds of neat stuff about Mexicans and Asians. These got posted. She reacted by saying she was kinda sorry but also still right and that it was harassment to bring up that stuff. And… that was it. Cancel Culture’s denizens applauded her apology (a courtesy often provided to those who are willing to lie about leftists). She is still employed by the Warren campaign. The incident wasn’t discussed in any mainstream news sources. The outrage over her old tweets was actually co-opted to smear those who unearthed them. 

The simple observation here was made by hundreds of people online: if this were a Sanders surrogate, they would have been fired immediately, the affair would have been discussed on cable news, and it would have been held up as proof that Sanders should drop out immediately. And when I say hundreds of people posted something along these lines, I might be understating this. The duplicity on display here is manifest to everyone who isn’t on the take. Everyone can see how rotten this is. There’s no question about it. No argument to be had. I’m sorry to say, but this kind of brazen cynicism does not go over well with most voters. It is, in fact, incredibly alienating. The people who claim universal healthcare is inherently racist and attempt to ruin people’s lives for using imprecise language can’t just turn around and demand immediate ablution for their own hateful acts. Or… I guess they can, since that’s what just happened. But they shouldn’t be able to. And the fact that she was able to, so completely and so easily, proves just how much of a shitty fucking grift this whole thing is. You don’t need to be a genius to realize that. You don’t even need to be well-read. You just need to pay a little attention and possess a little bit of self-respect. And that’s why Warren is going to lose.

[a-room-of-my-own]

Authenticity & empathy: Meghan Murphy

Meghan Murphy is a freelance writer and journalist. She has been podcasting and writing about feminism since 2010, is the founder and editor Feminist Current, Canada’s leading feminist website and has published work in numerous national and international publications.

This is the text of the speech she gave at the 22nd meeting of Woman’s Place UK.

I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity lately. We’re currently living in a culture wherein authenticity has been traded in for fakery. We support and reward virtue signalling and punish those who are real, those who tell the truth, those with integrity, those who insist on making political arguments based on critical thinking and what is right, rational, and ethical, instead of based on what is politically correct or popular.

I have a rather overzealous commitment to authenticity, which I think has played a sizable role in my insistence on pushing back against gender identity ideology and legislation. I know I have friends, or acquaintances, or friends of friends, or random internet followers with self righteous opinions who think maybe I should just back off of this. Or who claim I’m being ‘mean’ or unempathetic, because I continue to operate in reality rather than the fantasy land we’re told is the new normal, wherein black is white, up is down, and men are women.

But I see no empathy for women and girls on the part of trans activists, that is to say, those pushing gender identity ideology and legislation. What I see is bullying, threats, ostracization, and a misogynist backlash against the feminist movement and much of the work it’s accomplished over years.

I see no empathy for women who are now being forced to compete against male athletes in sport, essentially rendering women’s sport nonexistant, as they can no longer compete on fair ground, if forced to compete against men. I see no empathy for the female athletes speaking out against this reprehensible trend — instead they’re being smeared and threatened. I see no empathy for the lesbians being bullied right out of their own events and communities, as the LGBTQxyz+++ whatever movement does nothing to support them, and in fact seems instead to support the men pushing them around and hurling verbal abuse at them, simply for asserting that lesbians are females who are attracted to other females, not heterosexual men interested in playing around with lipstick.

We held an event in Vancouver earlier this month, addressing the issue of gender identity and kids, and our venue — the Croatian Cultural Centre — received so many threats they had to file a police report, hire their own security, and bring in the Vancouver Police Department to keep protesters off the property. They, for once, didn’t blame us — women, feminists — for the threats of violence sent their way, and rather asked, with disbelief, how it was us the trans activists were accusing of being ‘hateful’, while simultaneously verbally abusing and threatening violence against the venue’s staff.

Somewhere between 150 and 200 protesters showed up, and stood outside with signs saying things like, “Support trans youth”, “Love and Solidarity”, “Love trans kids”, “be careful who you hate, it might be someone you love” and “love wins.”

All this branding around “love” has been incredibly successful, of course. We — women fighting for women’s rights, people fighting for the truth, those of us who insist on acknowledging that biology is real, that females and males are real things, and that, no, there is no such thing as a “female penis” —have been painted as hateful, intolerant, and bigoted, despite the fact that we are the only ones engaging (or trying to engage in) respectful, civil, rational debate and discussion, and being shut down over and over again.

Despite the fact that WE are the ones concerned about male violence against women and how gender identity ideology and legislation will hurt women, as well as kids, who are now being sent down a path towards hormones and surgery that will destroy their bodies permanently, simply because they don’t conform to sexist gender stereotypes, it is trans activists who have positioned themselves as caring and politically correct, and us as cruel and intolerant.

As I was leaving the venue after that event, the stragglers screamed at me that I had blood on my hands. Which of course I do not, and which, of course, is incredibly ironic considering how many times I’ve been told I should be murdered on account of my belief that you can’t change sex, and that it is not possible to be ‘born in the wrong body.’

I see no empathy in trans activism for the girls who will lose scholarships and opportunities to boys who can easily beat them in athletic competitions.

I see no empathy for women and girls who don’t feel comfortable with naked men in their change rooms at the pool. I see no empathy for youth being put on hormones that will have a lasting impact on them, including permanent sterilization, all to accommodate adults who don’t want to see trans ideology questioned under any circumstances.

I see no empathy for the women and their children who will have nowhere to turn if their local transition house is defunded on account of a women-only policy.

I see no empathy for Kristi Hanna, a Toronto woman and survivor of sexual assault, who had leave her room at Palmerston house, a shelter for recovering addicts, because she was made to share a room with a man, and did not feel safe.

I see no empathy for the 14 female estheticians who were asked to give a male a brazilian bikini wax, then dragged to court when they declined, saying they only offered the service to women.

I see no empathy for the girls allegedly predated on by this man, who is being protected by our very liberal, very progressive society that’s choosing to put male feelings and desires above all else, under the guise of ‘inclusion’, and thanks to trans activism.

Women and girls are being told they may not have boundaries. That they may not say ‘no’ to men. And this is what we are told it means to ‘choose love’. This is what we are being told is ‘feminism’.

Trans activism says women may not define their own bodies as female. That we may not have our own rights, services, and spaces, that ‘exclude’ men. It says gender stereotypes are real and innate, but the female body is a social construction. It says that ‘woman’ is based only on adherence to or an affinity towards femininity, something feminism has fought against for years.

So much of what women fought for over the past century is being rolled back, and progressives are insisting we all shut up and take it, because it’s ‘nice’, and of course, women must always be ‘nice’, even if it means putting our lives, autonomy, safety, opinions, and rights aside.

NOTHING about the trans movement is progressive and nothing about it is feminist.

I brought up authenticity earlier on, partly because I am sick to death of this social media based culture wherein we put forth personas we believe our audience will like, modeling perfect faces, lives, and thoughts, which I find incredibly boring and depressing, but also because I see this devaluing of authenticity as having an incredibly destructive impact on political discourse, and certainly it’s manifested itself powerfully in the trans movement.

I don’t believe that, aside from a few exceptionally delusional or troubled people, a majority of the population believes it’s possible to change sex. I don’t believe that all these so called progressives look at a man we call him ‘she’, and believe he is literally a woman. I don’t believe all these people claiming ‘love wins’ and insisting women be more ‘empathetic’ as they give up all their rights and spaces, while these activists spout vile, hateful insults and threats at us, are really very loving at all.

I think people are not telling the truth. I think they are repeating mantras and going along with ideas and policies in order to appease their Facebook friends. I think they value social status a lot, and are willing to give up ethics and truth in order to be liked. And I think it’s pathetic. I think that these people are throwing women under the bus and even selling themselves out in the process, knowing that they’re spouting lies for virtual cookies and using us all to fake politics.

And I refuse to be used as some kind of stepping stool for empty headed, cowardly hipsters — these extremely privileged people who have fetishized oppression, but have no idea what marginalized groups actually face and deal with on a daily basis, because certainly it’s not ‘misgendering��� that is keeping people poor and vulnerable — who can’t be bothered to read, listen, or think before announcing, boldly, that women with actual politics, who actually understand history, and who are bold enough to take a stand against actual bigotry and oppression should be silenced, punched, or even killed.

The wrong side of history is an embarrassing place to be.

But unfortunately I worry that, by the time these people realize how much damage they’ve caused by going along with such a destructive trend, it will be too late. What does give me hope is all of you. This massive and growing movement of people standing up and saying ‘no’, we won’t take this silently and sitting down. This groundswell of people insisting on telling the truth, despite the fact that we lose friends, jobs, social status, and sometimes safety, for doing so.

And the more we keep doing it, the more will join us.

Meghan Murphy

20th May 2019

[sinrau]

How the American Idiot Baffles, Bewilders, and Horrifies the World

Warning: this essay might make you angry. I want to share with you the kinds of conversations that I have with people from around the world lately. Maybe that will give Americans a window into how bewildered, baffled, and horrified the world is by what they’ve let their country become. If you’re American, you may want to say, “But I’m not stupid!” Fair enough, you may not be. But the entire world can hardly be wrong either. The question is whether in America, stupidity has become a kind of institution, way of life, cultural value — whether it’s the only system left that governs anything at all. The question isn’t about you — the well-meaning, intelligent, good American. It’s about systemic stupidity, going thermonuclear.

I have these conversations almost every day. With people from Europe, Asia, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and beyond. And today’s particular conversation went a little bit like this.

“Humair!” Claudine cried, spying me strolling into the park with Snowy the magic wonder puppy.

“We have a question pour vous.”

I sighed. It was too early for this.

“We want to know — ” asked Helen. And then she paused.

“Go play, buddy!” I said to Snowy. Off he sped, overjoyed, towards the doggies running happy circles around the green. I, on the other hand, was exasperated.

“Well?” I asked. “It’s not another question about Americans, is it?”

They tittered. They were from all around the world, my new friends at the dog park. Claudine from France, Wolfgang from Germany, Helen from Oxford, Massimo from Italy. Everywhere but America. And watching America imploding, they had question after question. For me.

“Mate,” said the Ben, the London copper. “They want to know — “

Claudine cut in. “Don’t they teach Americains about fascism at school? We don’t understand it.”

“Don’t understand what?” I asked, still baffled. All I wanted to do was play with my dog.

Helen said: “Look. We’re all taught about fascism in grade school. How it goes from demonizing minorities to concentration camps to mass death. So…”

I waited.

“So why don’t Americans get it?” I asked, finally.

They all nodded.

Wolfgang cut in. “I’m German. Of course we are taught about fascism. It is something we still feel guilty for. But America…they act as if they are not taught about it in school. Aren’t they? When you go to school in America, don’t they teach you this about fascism? The cycle, the sequence, from hate to — to death?”

“Yes!,” cried Claudine. “That is the question we have.” She pronounced question in the French way. “It isn’t sensible. Americans must not be taught about fascism in school.”

“They are,” I said. “Just like you. They’re taught about the Nazis when they are children. And then again when they are young adults. The appeasement, the escalation, the steady trajectory towards concentration camps and mass death.”

Massimo frowned. “Impossible. If they are taught about fascism, then why don’t they understand they are going through fascism?”

Helen said, in her dry, precise, posh way: “Exactly. They can’t be taught about fascism. Look at America. It has undergone just what we’re taught. First, minorities are hated, then camps are built, and finally, mass death happens.”

“Mass death,” muttered Wolfgang, darkly.

Helen replied, “Isn’t that what a hundred thousand dead of Coronavirus, and counting, many of whom are minorities, is? OK. Trump didn’t start Coronavirus. But he is totally indifferent to it killing people. So are his Red States. They even cheer it on. That’s exactly what we’re taught: fascism is indifference to mass death.”

“Well — “ I began.

“Stupid,” said Ben, like a copper talking to a drunk driver. “They’re just stupid. They don’t wear face masks, even though it could stop spreading Coronavirus. They protest lockdown, even though it could save lives. They go to pool parties during a pandemic. They don’t care about the greater good. What else is that, except stupidity?”

“No, Ben,” Wolfgang replied, in his clipped way. “They can’t just be stupid. Stupid is not knowing something. But Americans are taught about this just like we are, according to him.” He pointed at me.

Ben replied, laughing. “No, mate. Stupid is when you know something, but you pretend not to know it, anyways.”

That one cut them like a knife. They all fell silent.

Ben expanded on his theory. “Everyone’s taught about fascism by now. Think about the kinds of people I arrest. Not shoot, like an American copper, by the way. They know what the law is. They just…break it. Stupid. Americans know what fascism is. They just won’t say the word, even when Trump is taking over their country. Stupid.”

Massimo objected. “But that doesn’t make sense! How can a person be educated about fascism and not speak up about it?!”

He was baffled. They all were. Was Ben right?

I said, weakly, “Guys. I think Ben is right. Maybe Americans are just stupid. Obviously not all of them, not every single one. Certainly not oppressed minorities, who are simply trying to survive in a fascist state. I mean something more like the Red Stater, who prides himself in not wearing a face mask. The spring breaker who jumps in a pool during a pandemic. Unfortunately, there are enough of them — the American Idiots. They’re educated about fascism, just like you. But they just don’t…just don’t…”

“Seem to care?” cut in Helen.

“Maybe they’re not able to care,” said Wolfgang. “Maybe if they say it, they will pay a price, like in Germany before. You couldn’t really challenge the Nazis much. They would beat you up, you would lose your job, maybe your home. Maybe it’s like that in America.”

Claudine laughed. “It can’t be like that in America.”

“It is for minorities,” said Ben, gruffly. A real copper. He hates two things most of all: injustice, and violence.

“OK, OK,” Claudine sighed. “But the average American can say fascism and no one will get him, no?”

Massimo nodded. “Of course they can. That is the point. Right now they can say it. But if Trump steals the election, then they won’t be able to say it. He will build secret police forces and crack down and monitor people. They prevent not being able to say it then by saying it now.”

“But they don’t,” said Wolfgang, reminding them of the question.

“Like I said,” Ben replied, “Stupid.”

Helen, the most analytical, said. “So far, we have three theories. One, Americans are uneducated. We ruled that out. Umair says they’re taught about fascism just like us. Two, Americans can’t say this is fascism, because they’ll pay a price for it. We ruled that out, too, and decided they prevent Trump taking over by saying it now.

That leaves us with one. Ben’s theory. They’re just…”

Ben grinned. He didn’t even have to say it.

“Fou,” said Claudine. Crazy.

“Vahnsinn,” said Wolfgang. Insane.

Massimo spiraled his finger around his head.

“Come on, guys.” Helen needed to play devil’s advocate. There had to be a better reason than this.

She looked at me, expectantly.

“Guys,” I said. “I’ve been trying to teach Americans this is fascism for years now. And they still refuse to say the word. Trump keeps doing awful things. They refuse to say the word. Just this week, he purged the Voice of America, he used an actual Nazi symbol in his campaign ads, he banned entire groups of people from entering the country, he declared himself anti-anti-fascist… and that’s just in the last week or two. And—

“They refuse to say the word.

“Honestly? I’m on Ben’s side, even if I don’t want to be. Maybe they are just stupid. Isn’t denial a kind of ignorance? A deliberate one? And what’s ignorance but…”

“Stupid,” Ben said, grinning.

That brought us full circle.

“Do you mean,” Claudine said, pressing, “that they are really taught that fascism is all these things that have already happened in America? The camps, bans, raids, purges…the…the hate coming from the President? The President tweeting a supporter yelling, ‘White Power’?”

I nodded.

“They’re really taught that fascism is a cycle that goes from camps to mass death?” Asked Wolfgang, still suspicious. “Like the mass death of Coronavirus? They’re really taught that mass death is the goal, culmination, desire, of fascism?”

I nodded.

“Actually?” Massimo said. “They’re actually taught all this? That fascism is everything that has happened in America over the last few years.” He struggled for the words. “They learn this in school?”

I nodded, and shrugged. “Of course they do.”

“They really learn that a fascist is someone who thinks of themselves as superhuman, and doesn’t care if the subhumans die,” asked Helen, carefully, narrowing her eyes, trying to make the definition as precise as possible. “Just like all the logic behind reopening all those Red States? They’re even taught the moral logic of fascism’s cruelty and brutality and violence?”

I nodded. “They’re even taught that.”

“ARRRUUGH!!!!,” Claudine shouted, stamping her feet in frustration, and throwing her hands up to the sky.

They all laughed. And then they joined her. All except Ben.

“It’s like I said,” Ben chuckled. “There’s no other explanation for it. You’ll be much less frustrated once you understand that Americans are…”

“Trump’s going to win again, isn’t he?” asked Wolfgang, worried, before Ben could finish.

“You mean he’s going to steal the election.” Massimo corrected him.

“They’re going to let him get away with it,” added Helen, frowning.

“Because they still don’t challenge it as fascism, which it is, and they should know it, because they are taught it, but they don’t?” finished Claudine, trying to unravel all the knots America ties a thinking person’s mind in now.

“AUUURGGH!!!” She shouted again.

I laughed. They all did. It was frustrating. “Guys. Here’s one thing I’ve learned over the last five years. Forget about it, OK?

“Nobody — and I mean nobody — can make Americans understand things they deliberately don’t want to understand. They learn all this at school. From fascism, to the hygiene that can save lives during a pandemic. About the greater good. But they are still in willful denial. That only leaves one way out.”

“They’re going to have to learn it the hard way,” said Ben grinning, emphasizing each word.

Wolfgang looked at me, his eyes wide. Massimo stared past me. Claudine looked at me as if to plead. Italian. German. French. They knew all this in a deeper way, the price of it, the ruin of it, of traveling to the place beyond stupidity, that has no name, how hard it is to return from that wasteland, what horrors take place there.

I looked back at them with a kind of sadness in my eyes. I’d seen it, too. In country after country, of poorer people. Strongmen, violence, hate, brutality, ruin. What made us different from Americans? We’d all seen it happen to us. We understood the price of denial, the bitter reality of fascism, in a way that Americans had yet to learn, and seemed to be begging daring history to teach them. Not just from textbooks. But from life itself.

“This is how history repeats itself,” I said.

The puppies circled around, laughing in delight. The sun shone over the ancient city of poets and kings, revolutionaries and dreamers. And on this little patch of green, where I’d made these unlikely new friends, I understood something new. These gentle, decent, humane people, I’d come to know and love a little bit, wanted only the best for everyone they met. And nothing surprised them more than people who didn’t. Like Americans. That was what it had always meant to be civilized, in the final analysis. That is why we shared something, me this frail exile, and these gentle, wise Europeans. And America, perhaps, had never crossed that line at all.

Umair June 2020

[woohooligancomics]

Laughtifesto

Are we laughing?

We should be. Laughter is a moral imperative: a proposition declaring a certain action necessary. Kant argued that not following a moral imperative would be self-defeating and therefore contrary to reason, like trying to improve your mood by reading unmoderated internet comments. You can't spell "encourage" without "enrage"! If we accept this definition, laughter may be the only moral imperative that's fun!

We all know the world is full of scary things: natural disasters, flesh-eating viruses, identity theft, fake news, real news, terrorism both foreign and domestic... clowns. With all those real dangers, it's kind of a miracle anyone makes horror movies. "Hey, I got this movie about an alien parasite that melts people's faces... I'm gonna stop you right there, you had me at 'alien parasite'. I need something to take my mind off the president implying nuclear holocaust on Twitter."

We could accept that fear. We could allow it to drive our decisions, build more walls, buy more locks and guns, stay in the house and avoid human contact. But what's the end game there? We'll be holed-up alone in our bomb-shelters, eating canned beans and Spam. We'll eke out our embattled existence in the post-apocalyptic hellscape, watching for roving bandits. As we play our thousandth game of solitaire, we'll say to ourselves, "I sure am glad I stopped going to parties so I could stock all these guns and canned food! Just think of all those suckers out at the clubs, laughing it up, not preparing for the apocalypse. Who's got the last laugh now?!"

Even if there is an apocalypse, preparing for one is a lose-lose strategy. Your bunker's got food and water, guns, medical supplies and a deck of cards to pass the time. You're set, right? Unless you develop a blood clot... or that Spam you're eating gives you cancer. Who forgot to buy the at-home oncology lab? I hear you can remove a colon tumor with a Bowie knife and a bottle of whiskey if you print out the right tutorials in advance.

The point is, no matter how much you prepare, there's no guarantee it will save you. In fact, when you consider that the odds of each individual danger are so small, the more you prepare, the more time you're wasting on threats you'll never personally face. In the first world, even if we spend all our time studying survival, we're no less likely to succumb to the five leading causes of death: heart attack, cancer, lung disease, household accidents and stroke. Better to just cover the basics like cell-phones, insurance, and fire-alarms, and let your neighbors to help if you have an emergency those things don't solve.

But will your neighbors help? That's a good question. Do you laugh with them? Laughter brings us together more than anything else we do. More than protesting, mourning, patriotism, Thanksgiving, even drinking! As the Great Dane (and fair comedian), Victor Borge said, "laughter is the shortest distance between two people."

Some people still give you all sorts of reasons not to laugh.

I'm not laughing because this is serious work, for serious face. Surely Albert Einstein never laughed while he was developing his theory of relativity that changed the world forever. The class clown isn't just better at their own job, the team is better because of them. They make working together easier and more fun!

I'm not laughing because we need real social and political change! Because that's what's really holding us back! I mean, robber barons like Carnegie and Rockefeller caused the Great Depression, but the real reason it took a decade to climb back out of it was because FDR heard too many dick jokes! "Damnit, Truman, that's it! I'm not fixing the economy until people stop making fun of my Johnson! Eleanor, fetch my Viagra!... and a ruler."

Lots of people are using comedy to create real social and political change. Adam Conover addresses lots of real issues on his show, Adam Ruins Everything. Jordan Klepper's show, Jordan Klepper Solves Guns came with a website with information and links to resources to help regular citizens in the US deal with our gun crisis. Will dick jokes alone create real change? No. But they don't stop Samantha Bee from giving you loads of useful information on Full Frontal to help you get involved in whatever issue is important to you. She's giving you the tip; what you do with it is up to you.

I'm not laughing because I'm angry! Sure, because George Carlin, Denis Leary, Sam Kinison, Bill Hicks, and Lewis Black couldn't possibly relate to that!

I'm not laughing because I'm sad... that's when you most need to laugh.

Carl Jung said, "you are what you do, not what you say you'll do". We become the things we practice, so if we practice being afraid, by watching local news and TV murder shows, we'll become more afraid. On the other hand, we can also practice being happy and productive by getting out of ourselves and not being afraid to be silly. If actions speak louder than words, then the things we laugh at are one of the best marks of our character. Do we laugh at the homeless or disabled? Or do we laugh at greedy politicians and corporate execs who push their agendas at our expense?

Of course, Laughter isn't always safe. Comedy is a tool, and it can be used to tear down as much as to build-up or to heal. That's why there's nothing evil people hate more than our laughter (except for those clowns). Tyrants and terrorists alike hate being laughed at, whether they're in government, private corporations, religious establishments, or loosely organized on the Internet. They hate it because they want power and control, and laughing at them tells them we don't accept their control.

It's that same hatred of our laughter that caused the Egyptian government to exile Bassem Youssef for his comedy, that also inspired the shooting of cartoonists at Charlie Hebdo. Tyrants often jail political cartoonists, and I'm sure the Inquisition or the Lord's Resistance Army would respond the same way.

While the threat of violence is a concern, we can't let evil people dictate how we live. We can't be so afraid of their retribution in the future that we make ourselves miserable today. Giving in, staying inside, banning travel, hoarding Spam, amounts to appeasing them. So when a terrorist asshat drove through a dozen New Yorkers on Halloween 2017, the rest of them went out, dressed up in their costumes, got drunk and urinated in the subway, like they do every year! You can't break New York! If you can make it there, you laugh in the face of fear!

Throughout 2016, Russian government hackers turned western civil discord up to eleven, in both the United States and Europe. These deep-dump operatives stoked online flame wars and organized several street protests AND their own counter-protests. They drove both sides of these "debates" because they didn't care about either side. Putin wanted us fighting, to make us believe we hate each other more than we do. That lets him claim that western democracy has failed (with bonus points if he could inject his political puppets into other governments). Laughing is the last thing Putin, or for that matter Trump, wants us doing.

Laughter is a moral imperative, because if we stop laughing, the tyrants and terrorists win.

We know finding reasons to laugh isn't always easy. It shouldn't be. Destruction is always easier than creation. Probably no arsonist ever said "oh man, that building just refused to light!" Building it on the other hand took a lot of people, time and cooperation, and we can be proud of our accomplishment. Just as no one person is responsible for the building, no one of us is the only jester. Laughter gets around, because it needs to be shared. Who keeps their jokes to themselves? I mean... what's so funny if you can't tell us? That's just creepy. Moreover sharing our laughs, even the little ones, is the best thing we can do for each other (after CPR -- perform the CPR first, then tell the joke). It might be one of many, or it might be the laugh someone needed on a really difficult day, or it might be the laugh that sparks a revolution.

You put your little laugh out onto the road, and there's no knowing where it might be swept off to.

So I'm going to stay right here, and keep laughing it forward. Thank you for sharing yourself and laughing with us!

- Samuel Isaac Dealey

p.s. Call me Sam

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"It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped each time a man stands up for an ideal or acts to improve the lot of others or strikes out against injustice. He sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest wall of oppression and resistance."

- Robert F. Kennedy

"The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."

- Steve Jobs