#the fact that I have to check twitter for them is a crime more unforgivable than violating the geneva convention

[ghostpunkrock]

this twitter account is my only true friend during these fraught and trying times

[uselessheretic]

i said this somewhere else but not here, but i think a big reason why ofmd fandom is struggling so much with certain topics (especially race) is mostly due to unfamiliarity with the marginalized identities. from my perspective as a black american, convos about race in polynesia is next to nonexistent even in antiracist spaces. topics on the caribbean is something that more people have a passing knowledge of, but even in real life antiracist spaces, they're rarely talked about in depth (and in black spaces we mostly just all bicker on twitter with the biannual diaspora war someone always kicks off with a hot take.) this isn't everybody of course. there's plenty of māori and people from the caribbean in fandom, and sometimes fandom acts like there isn't. this is also an american perspective, although i feel like it'd be a wee bit egotistical for people outside those regions to assume they know everything.

with ofmd it's not just being familiar with the culture, but its history as well, and then analyzing what happens in the show through those lenses. the time period and historical figures being depicted reflect a very complex moment in history that had a lot of nuances that aren't as widely present today. when you throw in being critical of the show's writing and what our modern day biases look like that gets even more complicated. but that still means we have to then determine how much the writers intention matters here. so people are juggling analysis that involves culture, history, writer's intention, and our own biases.

which kinda uses a bit more active work than people are used to. fandom's always bad at talking about race no matter what but lmao ofmd really be struggling. at the very least i be struggling 😭

so, for many people these are conversations they haven't held before and lenses of analysis they haven't used. that means there's a lot of new information they're learning often from fandom folks' meta and commentary. that means people have to do more work than usual to determine what is and isn't true. usually there's a bit more check and balances happening where a lot of the time (but not always) misinfo will be corrected by others in fandom more familiar with what they're talking about. this on its own is already a pretty bad way to tell real info from misinfo, but it's even worse now.

this whole ramble is also me saying that i'm also in the process of learning, and i think people should be more open to admitting that. nobody knows everything and learning involves making a lot of mistakes. i wish fandom had a more rehabilitative culture of being able to own up to mistakes. with things born of ignorance to not always be treated like purposeful, unforgivable crimes. that kind of pressure makes for a miserable environment where people are scared of being wrong and more likely to default to just agreeing with whatever statement is least likely to get them in trouble. which also means when people suspect that something isn't correct they just stay silent and work off the assumption that someone else will fix.

which, by the way, is called morally motivated network harassment so if you ever wanted to read a study that feels like it's describing tumblr perfectly i would highly recommend it.

i've been super wordy all day so my bad lol but i guess tldr:

a lot of people in ofmd fandom aren't familiar with some of the more complex topics around race because it involves marginalized identities that often are erased in schools/antiracist activist spaces

stuff being more confusing makes sense because not everything is straight forward. especially when talking about things in a historical context where there's more active engagement needed (also most schools teach us to not engage in this way. so like it fr is hard??)

fandom's too mean about things. when people are learning we should encourage that, but it's hard to do that when people feel like they're going to be punished if they make a mistake.

idk fact check stuff i guess? and be careful to not mistake someone's own interpretation for fact when listening to someone's opinion. ppl should also look at the sources and draw their own conclusions.

also i think it's dumb when someone learns new information and then pretends that they knew this all along and that everyone else is dumb and bigoted for not knowing. just as a bonus point i guess.

[anthonybialy]

Rabidness on the Line

Leftist cultists understandably do anything they can to avoid interacting with the world.  This place is so mean with its consequences, especially the outside part.  People notice cause and effect out there.  Don’t look up from your phone if you need to leave the bubble for plant-based snacks.

Indulging woke pandering requires heading to a place where even the theoretical doesn’t work.  Try nowhere.  This futuristic cyberspace virtual universe is the perfect place to reside if you’re trying to avoid indignities like rebuttals and outcomes.

Claims have never been easier to verify.  You don’t have to take my word for it.  Every person is a fact-checker, or at least should be.  Reviewing assertions is remarkably easy, which makes the Washington Post and PolitiFact sucking at it despite being alleged professionals that much more shameful.

Or, trust Karine Jean-Pierre as the ultimate arbiter of truth.  Very skeptical humans who think government’s job is to do everything but fight crime are particularly stubborn about checking their own claims, which is particularly annoying when doing so takes as little typing as tweeting that we’ll be safe once cops have no money.  Dealing with actuality is far trickier when you avoid researching in favor of seeking likes for claiming America still benefits from slavery.

The shrillest fanatics are not going to look up anything elitist like facts.  Everyone can access all the information ever with a few touches.  But typing a couple words seems like a total hassle.  That’s after opening the app, ugh.

Pious ignorance is reaffirmed during virtual circle jerks.  Don’t you dare presume the identities of participants.  Reaffirming a distortion is a sick fetish, although we’re never supposed to issue judgment on the screwed-up perversions of others.

Companies are not selling their products.  It’s no wonder the economy blows.  Sellers seeking praise from social justice specialists have little concern for quality control.  The serotonin hit provided by retweets and replies doesn’t just apply to individuals.  And you thought corporations weren’t people.

Peddling smugness is apparently more worthwhile than getting cash in exchange for services.  Social media preeners will never buy a thing despite vowing to spend all their discretionary income plus some of their rent money on stuff sold by companies whose social media accounts condemn the Second Amendment or the right of the unborn to emerge.

Online followers praising lunacy doesn’t seem to be a wise business plan.  Companies who follow it deserve to vacate their world headquarters.  They’ll naturally blame free enterprise for failing.  Obeying loathers of it kind of seems like they weren’t obeying market forces all along.  But there’s nobody to point out the error in the online equivalent of an economics class full of pinkos.

Saying things makes them so.  I was told such.  Shrieking internet residents who debate whether smashing capitalism or the patriarchy takes precedence would never steer me wrong.  It’s a bit challenging to debate in quarters where histrionic leftist doctrine is treated like it creates both prosperity and election wins.

The sort of people who think Joe Biden is a cool old pal are undoubtedly in touch with results.  The awesome dude they wish was their grandpa will save us from inflation and skyrocketing gas prices caused by some mean conglomerate.

Unforgivable student loan forgiveness means students majored in theft.  Constant self-righteous calls infest Twitter like useless degrees.  If sanctimonious moaners spent as much time earning as they do demanding to not pay bills, they would’ve made enough to cover costs.

Of course, it’s tough to find something productive after purchasing an education that didn’t seem to feature much acquisition of knowledge.  Buying something useless will make anyone feel like disputing the charge, which should provide incentive to not buy something without value in the first place.

The presumption government could fix anything if only it were allowed to intervene will surely lead to fulfillment.  Looking for dissent means dealing with icky bigoted Republicans who think people are capable of spending what they earned.  It’s much easier to announce politicians more worried about collecting blood-covered currency from the gun lobby than check just how much crime happens in locales where only the law-abiding can’t obtain them.  Statistics are so impersonal.

Ganging up on those who notice biology is not quite the most logical way to be scientific.  The nerve of using pronouns that weren’t selected that morning must be punished with banishment.  Forgiveness is for the weak, according to the open-minded.  There’s no more heinous crime in these modern times than deadnaming someone.  Actual felonies get excused away.  Can you believe more things are getting stolen?

Noting the internet is not like real life has been in vogue since AOL chatrooms.  The claim is inaccurate in the sense each account is operated by humans, aside from the Instagram accounts that are suspiciously interested in experiencing my romantic overtures.

But the point remains that cyber-participants don’t have to worry about an instant response in person.  Ghastly invective spewed from behind a screen is as shameful as concluding anyone who wants marriage to be how it always was until a couple years ago is tacitly revealing a desire to jail those attracted to the same gender.

It’s as tough to sense eye rolls online as it is sarcasm.  Foes of contemporary daftness just have to learn to not pander to maniacs as you would politely.  You’d excuse yourself from someone at a bar or wedding reception explaining how pronouns save lives.  Avoiding the irritating is even easier to do so with a block button.

[truthofherdreams]

people can surprise you (or not)

Friday

also on ao3

Maria is the one on Nastya Watch when Anya wakes up the following day. She’s made herself at home already, sitting cross-legged at the dinner table with her laptop and graphic tablet in front of her. The strong aroma of coffee fills the room, and the last notes of a Panic! At The Disco song fade away, Paramore’s guitar riffs rising in the silence of the apartment.

“The emo playlist, really?” Anya asks as she makes her way to the kitchen so she can pour herself a cup of coffee. She adds two sugar and a drop of milk, head bobbing to the music. It reminds her of being a teenager, singing along to rock songs and dancing on her bed with Maria and Alexei, playing at who-would-be-the-more-dramatic. (Her, always her.)

“It’s still solid, stop complaining,” Maria replies, not looking away from her screen. She’s drawing a mermaid, and it’s probably part of the children’s book she’s been illustrating for weeks now.

“Am not,” Anya says as she comes back to the living room, and sit on a chair opposite Maria. She puts her feet on the chair, arms wrapped around her legs and chin on her knees. “You could have bought croissants, though.”

Maria takes one grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and throws it at her. Anya catches her with her mouth, the grape exploding on her tongue before she swallows it around a proud grin, to which her sister only replies by rolling her eyes.

“The bakery is just next door, feel free to go whenever.”

Anya pokes her tongue out at her sister, before she looks down at her phone. Emails have been piling up since yesterday and it will take her hours to go through all of them – not that she has anything else to do. She can’t remember the last time she took that many days off work, but it would be lying to say she doesn’t deserve them. She’s been working so hard the past few years; she deserves a break, even if it comes with an almost mental breakdown and an identity crisis.

She’s in the middle of sending a requested to DisneyLand – lots of kids want to be in the happiest place on earth as their Wish, after all – when Maria’s phone blasts Alexei’s personalised ringtone.

“Yeah, baby bro? …Okay, wait. I’m putting you on speaker.” She moves the phone away from her face and presses here and then on her screen, before she adds, “Okay, you can speak now.”

“Nastya, what’s Dmitry’s surname?”

She frowns, both at the question and the hurried tone. “Sudayev. Why?”

“You need to check Twitter,” is all Alexei says instead of answering. “Now.”

The sisters frown at each other above the top of the laptop screen, before Maria pushes her graphic tablet and Anya stands up to walk around the table. By the time Anya stands behind her sister, both hands on the back of the chair, Maria has opened Twitter already. It’s her profession account, the one where she posts about her work and current projects, but it’s not the most important part right now.

Because Anya’s eyes are drawn to the Worldwide Trends list on the left of the page, and they widen when she reads through it.

BuzzClick is trending, and with it Dmitry Sudayev. Worldwide.

Maria’s mouth hovers over the name, before she pauses and looks up at her little sister. Anya is aware that she’s waiting for something, for some hint of approval that she can click and discover what is going on. But she just can’t stop staring at the screen, at the name. Just a bunch of letters aligned in one specific order, and yet her heart is in her throat, beating so fast that she’s afraid her breakfast will go out the wrong way. Maria is silent, and so is Alexei, and Anya is staring and staring and staring.

She isn’t sure if she offers Maria a nod, or a jerk of the head, or just that her entire body is trembling. But at some point she moves, and Maria clicks on the link, opens the floodgates, releases the kraken. And Anya, with her heart in her throat and cotton in her ears, and her damn fucking mind playing tricks on her, Anya leans closer to the screen so she can read.

The first tweet comes from the Huffington Post, of all places. ‘How one Frenchmen called out incel-friendly online magazine,’ reads the title. Next tweet is from a feminist organisation. The one after from a politician. Then another feminist, some angry dude, a smaller newspaper, a YouTuber, random person number one, random person number two. It goes on and on, and on, until Maria scrolls back up and clicks on the HuffPost article.

“Sudayev, who had been working for ClickBuzz for the past five years, posted the article early this morning,” Maria reads out loud for the both of them. “It stayed online for three hours before it was deleted – but not before people could screencap it and share it on social media. The article soon went viral and…”

Maria stops then, goes back to Twitter, finds the screencaps. It’s four of them in a row, sentences after sentences, paragraphs after paragraphs. The style is messy, all over the place – she pictures Dmitry sitting in front of his computer and typing angrily, or going at it on his phone, before hitting the ‘Publish’ button in a spur-of-the-moment fit of rage.

That raw, unguarded flood of emotions, she felt it too.

It’s hard, to come to terms with it, with the fact that Dmitry may be going through the same heartbreak she is. A small, angry part of her wants him to suffer, to feel so sorry for his crimes that he will come crawling back to her and beg for forgiveness. But, at the end of the day, that is not who Anya is. That is not what Anya wants. She just wants… she just thinks that Dmitry messed up, and is as broken as she feels, and probably was drunk when he wrote and posted this.

She thinks that he would never have said some of those things, sober, to her face.

Maria’s phone beeps twice loudly, startling Anya out of her reflexion. It’s another call, from Olga, and Maria is fast to merge the two conversations together so they can share a big Romanov conversation.

“Did you see it?” are Tatiana’s first words.

“Yeah, looking at it right now,” Maria replies.

“How’s Malenkaya holding up?”

“You’re on speaker,” Maria says, at the same time that Anya replies, “I’m fine.” But her voice is flat and small, and her eyes are still glued to the screen, and she isn’t even convincing herself. She doesn’t feel fine. Actually, she doesn’t know how she feels at all about all of this.

The Dmitry she knows – or, well, thought she knew – never would have done that in a manipulative way. Despite what some of those tweets are claiming, he didn’t do it to throw a pity party for himself, or for Anya to feel sorry for him. If Dmitry is half the man she thought he was, he meant every word he wrote. And perhaps that is the most terrifying part.

“So what are you going to do?” Olga asks, her voice so soft and gentle that Anya’s eyes start prickling.

“Well, she can’t exactly…”

“I think that’s quite romantic and…”

“She should just call him to see if…”

“...obviously manipulating her and…”

“...if he really means it, it could…”

“...benefit of the doubt and…”

“...doesn’t deserve her anyway, she’s too…”

“...but what about second chances and….”

“HOW ABOUT YOU ALL SHUT UP!” Hands in her hair, pulling a little, she is still staring at the screen and ignoring Maria’s wide eyes, enjoying the silence that settles over the phone. Not even Olga makes a comment about her language, which says a lot. “My love life isn’t some kind of democracy where you all have a say!”

A pause. Then, Alexei, “Well, more like an oligarchy because…”

“Oh shut your damn mouth, okay!”

Alexei may shut his mouth, but Maria’s jaw is on the floor. Olga weakly protests about not talking to her brother that way, not that Anya pays her any mind. She’s just focusing on breathing properly again, deep in, low out, so as to calm down the anger building inside her. She loves her siblings, she really does, but sometimes they forget about boundaries. Which would be fine any other day, but her mind is too much of a mess already for her to take into account everyone’s opinion on the matter.

“I’ll call you all back later,” Maria hastily says, before she hangs up despite her siblings’ protests.

The silence that follows is deafening.

It’s only when Anya goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, only to struggle with opening the bottle, that she looks down at her hands. They are trembling so hard she can’t make them stop, even when she clasps them together. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against the cold metal of the fridge’s door, willing her heart to stop beating so fast, her entire body to calm down.

Maria’s hand, warm and soothing, settles on her back and runs small circles against the fabric of her shirt. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her comforting presence do the job, and Anya has to admit it is effective. After the noise and mess of her siblings, some moments of peace with the other half of the Little Pair might be exactly what she needs right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Maria asks softly.

Anya scoffs. “Is there anything to talk about? This doesn’t change anything.”

She isn’t so sure who she is trying to convince here but, as always, Maria isn’t fooled. She doesn’t say anything for a while, her lips pressed tightly, as if carefully pondering on her next words. Maria has never been the wiser of the lot, after all, especially not when it comes to relationship advices. She got her heart burnt too many times before meeting the love of her life, and yet she kept throwing herself back in the game every time. Anya has no idea how she did it.

“But he said you were the love of his life,” Maria finally says, her voice soft and careful. “That has to change some things.”

“You think I should forgive him?”

“No.” Simple. Final. “Because what he did is unforgivable, I stand with Tanya on this. But… But Nastya, you owe it to yourself to find some closure, don’t you think?”

It’s dangerous -- she is afraid of what might happen if she confronts Dmitry again, if she looks into his eyes only to find something she doesn’t want to see in them. Or does want to see. What then? Fall back into his arms, only to get burnt once more? Walk away from him anyway? She doesn’t know what she wants, what she needs, what she expects. Why does everything about all of this have to be so complicated, her mind at war with her heart?

“I don’t know…” she starts, before she pauses. Tongue darting out to lick her lips. Hand rubbing one of her eyes.

But perhaps not knowing is exactly why she needs to do that. Perhaps it will shed some light on the situation and allow her to make sense of everything that has happened since Wednesday night. And, like Maria said, it might help her get some closure, might make it easier for her to move on after this. So she sighs, and looks back at her sister.

“Yeah, okay.”

Maria smiles, soft and protective, before she takes out her phone and opens the maps app. “Let’s go to BuzzClick, then.”

[barrypurcell]

Fascism

Learn what fascism is. It’s not just another way of looking at things, or a philosophy of government to compete with socialism. The bare definition doesn’t encapsulate what it actually means.

It’s the political leveraging of capitalism to create the most damage possible to the most vulnerable sections of society, and then finding ways to hold them responsible for that damage.

Like its constituent bare-bones capitalism, it has an in-built mechanism of self-propagation: it encourages its followers to wipe out its opponents by force if possible, or where force is not possible, by censorship, abuse and condescending dismissal.

You cannot fight fascism in debates. Stop trying. They don’t care about anything you have to say. They don’t care about facts or data. The only reason a fascist might get into a debate with you is because he is legitimised by forcing you to consider his asinine opinions, even if it’s only enough to counter them. They will debate the meaning of everything, challenge every point you make, not to gain clarity, but to sow confusion and breed the idea that nuance is weakness: anything that takes more than 140 characters to express is unnecessarily complicated. Everyone’s entitled to an opinion after all; what makes your opinion more important, more relevant or more true than mine?

He and his supporters will be laughing afterwards about how weak you appeared, even if you wiped the floor with him. This is how fascists think; they live entirely inside their own delusion. If you oppose them in any way, for any reason, you are the enemy. This means you are to be eliminated, or suppressed, or positioned as the subject of mockery. There are no other options.

There is no way to power-share with fascists. Any fascists ostensibly sharing power are constantly looking for ways to take over completely, and are not above violence to achieve that aim. They will lie, cheat and steal and ruthlessly use democratic systems against their own government. Nothing is unforgivable in pursuit of total power, like some kind of Nazi Taqiyyah.

There is no room under fascism for creativity (unless you’re creating something to advance the fascist agenda) or humour (unless you’re laughing at fascism’s enemies or vulnerable people) or any kind of independent thought. Under fascism, everyone agrees with authority, everyone looks the same and everyone has the same opinion about everything.

There are no neutral positions with fascists. If they don’t recognise you as one of them, your days are numbered. History demonstrates: sooner or later, they will come for you.

How do you fight a human spirit grinder like fascism? How do you fight something that, in many cases, regards your mere existence as antithetical to its interests?

The obvious solution is to stamp out these power-obsessed weirdos like cigarettes wherever we find them, but that’s not always possible. Therefore, the most useful strategy is to set metaphorical land-mines wherever they step and hope one of them blows up in their face.

Open mockery is good firstly because fascists don’t understand humour, and secondly because it directly questions their legitimacy. I’m not claiming that telling a few jokes could have taken down the Third Reich, but it drives these thin-skinned nutters utterly crazy if they think they’re not being taken seriously. So don’t take them seriously. Watch them expose themselves for who they really are.

Make sure to refer to these people as “fascists” wherever you can. There is widespread understanding among normal people that “fascist = bad”, which is why racists have re-positioned themselves as “white pride advocates” or whatever Richard Spencer is calling himself these days. Part of the opening round for these people is pretending that they’re dealing with some political reality that no one else will. Fascists will present as “corporate friendly”, or “low tax policy” or “tough on crime” or “immigration reform”, or a whole slew of other dog whistle terms which seem to the casual observer as if they are at least valid political opinions. Stop meeting these people half way. Be straight forward: “That is a fascist policy by definition.”

Watch and report everything they do. Fascists find it difficult to operate in daylight. You don’t have to make a big deal about it. Just make sure that you have a reliable source for what’s going on, and check that source on a regular basis. If you see something that you don’t like, link to it on social media. They have no problem lying about everything, but the more often and more seriously they are forced to lie, the more likely it is that people will pick up on it.

Show them no respect whatsoever. As decent human beings, we are conditioned to the idea that showing people respect is a good thing. Fascism feeds like a vulture on the carcass of how society dictates a “decent human being” should behave. They will take your silence as agreement with their ridiculous opinions.

This is how they think: A fascist says something stupid at a party. Everyone is stunned into silence and / or doesn’t want to make waves. The fascist goes home believe that he’s “just saying what everyone’s thinking”. Do not be that quiet person. Do not be a fascist enabler. All it takes is a single “I don’t accept that at all,” and, if you like, refuse to explain further. It doesn’t matter what he says after that. All that matters is you have interrupted that particular thought flow. If you have fascist-enabling friends on Twitter or Facebook, do not be afraid to speak out. Fear is destructive at the best of times, and there are strong social pressures to not “be that guy”, but when fascists are in play, this fear and these social pressures could get us all killed.

When you see fascists rolling over the horizon: Do something, make something, create your own tiny act of rebellion. You have control over how you choose to react to the stupid and horrible things that happen around you. Use that control to make a positive impact on your life. Why not?

After all, if you’ve ever accidentally turned to the History Channel on any random day of the year, you know what the alternative is.

Medium, 26 January 2017

[solo1y]

Fascism

I published this on Medium first. 

Learn what fascism is. It’s not just another way of looking at things, or a philosophy of government to compete with socialism. The bare definition doesn’t encapsulate what it actually means.

It’s the political leveraging of capitalism to create the most damage possible to the most vulnerable sections of society, and then finding ways to hold them responsible for that damage. 

Like its constituent bare-bones capitalism, it has an in-built mechanism of self-propagation: it encourages its followers to wipe out its opponents by force if possible, or where force is not possible, by censorship, abuse and condescending dismissal.

You cannot fight fascism in debates. Stop trying. They don’t care about anything you have to say. They don’t care about facts or data. The only reason a fascist might get into a debate with you is because he is legitimised by forcing you to consider his asinine opinions, even if it’s only enough to counter them. They will debate the meaning of everything, challenge every point you make, not to gain clarity, but to sow confusion and breed the idea that nuance is weakness: anything that takes more than 140 characters to express is unnecessarily complicated. Everyone’s entitled to an opinion after all; what makes your opinion more important, more relevant or more true than mine?

He and his supporters will be laughing afterwards about how weak you appeared, even if you wiped the floor with him. This is how fascists think; they live entirely inside their own delusion. If you oppose them in any way, for any reason, you are the enemy. This means your are to be eliminated, or suppressed, or positioned as the subject of mockery. There are no other options. 

There is no way to power-share with fascists. Any fascists ostensibly sharing power are constantly looking for ways to take over completely, and are not above violence to achieve that aim. They will lie, cheat and steal and ruthlessly use democratic systems against their own government. Nothing is unforgivable in pursuit of total power, like some kind of Nazi Taqiyyah. 

There is no room under fascism for creativity (unless you’re creating something to advance the fascist agenda) or humour (unless you’re laughing at fascism’s enemies or vulnerable people) or any kind of independent thought. Under fascism, everyone agrees with authority, everyone looks the same and  everyone has the same opinion about everything.

There are no neutral positions with fascists. If they don’t recognise you as one of them, your days are numbered. History demonstrates: sooner or later, they will come for you. 

How do you fight a human spirit grinder like fascism? How do you fight something that, in many cases, regards your mere existence as antithetical to its interests?

The obvious solution is to stamp out these power-obsessed weirdos like cigarettes wherever we find them, but that’s not always possible. Therefore, the most useful strategy is to set metaphorical land-mines wherever they step and hope one of them blows up in their face.

Open mockery is good firstly because fascists don’t understand humour, and secondly because it directly questions their legitimacy. I’m not claiming that telling a few jokes could have taken down the Third Reich, but it drives these thin-skinned nutters utterly crazy if they think they’re not being taken seriously. So don’t take them seriously. Watch them expose themselves for who they really are. 

Make sure to refer to these people as “fascists” wherever you can. There is widespread understanding among normal people that “fascist = bad”, which is why racists have re-positioned themselves as “white pride advocates” or whatever Richard Spencer is calling himself these days. Part of the opening round for these people is pretending that they’re dealing with some political reality that no one else will. Fascists will present as “corporate friendly”, or “low tax policy” or “tough on crime” or “immigration reform”, or a whole slew of other dog whistle terms which seem to the casual observer as if they are at least valid political opinions. Stop meeting these people half way. Be straight forward: “That is a fascist policy by definition.”

Watch and report everything they do. Fascists find it difficult to operate in daylight. You don’t have to make a big deal about it. Just make sure that you have a reliable source for what’s going on, and check that source on a regular basis. If you see something that you don’t like, link to it on social media. They have no problem lying about everything, but the more often and more seriously they are forced to lie, the more likely it is that people will pick up on it. 

Show them no respect whatsoever. As decent human beings, we are conditioned to the idea that showing people respect is a good thing. Fascism feeds like a vulture on the carcass of how society dictates a “decent human being” should behave. They will take your silence as agreement with their ridiculous opinions. 

This is how they think: A fascist says something stupid at a party. Everyone is stunned into silence and / or doesn’t want to make waves. The fascist goes home believe that he’s “just saying what everyone’s thinking”. Do not be that quiet person. Do not be a fascist enabler. All it takes is a single “I don’t accept that at all,” and, if you like, refuse to explain further. It doesn’t matter what he says after that. All that matters is you have interrupted that particular thought flow. If you have fascist-enabling friends on Twitter or Facebook, do not be afraid to speak out. Fear is destructive at the best of times, and there are strong social pressures to not “be that guy”, but when fascists are in play, this fear and these social pressures could get us all killed.

When you see fascists rolling over the horizon: Do something, make something, create your own tiny act of rebellion. You have control over how you choose to react to the stupid and horrible things that happen around you. Use that control to make a positive impact on your life. Why not? 

After all, if you’ve ever accidentally turned to the History Channel on any random day of the year, you know what the alternative is.