Don't Fight the Powers, Use Them - Buckminster Fuller

January 20th 2017...Day 1 of 1300.....the day Lord Voldermorts reign of terror began! What a day it was, the sky was smothered in gray clouds, the air was thick with whatever the opposite of hope is, giant military Hum Vees were parked all over with pods of nervous looking Army guys milling around. Helicopters hovered menacingly, circling the sky, their blades adding to the symphony of fear playing on repeat throughout downtown. Sirens were going off in every direction and it generally felt like we were waiting for god to set the whole city on fire ala Sodom and Gomorrah.

I was raised on George Clinton, Gogo and Ben's Chili Bowl. Politics has always been in my blood. I have been to every inauguration possible since my birth. From the moment I got off the train at Union Station, I knew I was entering enemy territory. Mr potato shaped humans, with interchangeable bland wonder bread features were milling around, all topped off with that one glowing red beacon, the "Make America Great Again," hat.

I must tell you what a weird fucking thing it is to walk through YOUR hometown and feel like you are the odd man out. I hadn't thought about how much instant hatred and animosity I would feel toward ANYONE who had the tiniest amount of Trump paraphaneila on. I instantly directed all my hate and frustration onto their face and started hoping that terrible things would happen to them, we're talking full on day dreams of them being ripped apart by starving wolves, wishing STD's would explode all over their genitals.. I mean I started going nuts. But I calmed myself down eventually... So I walked, and talked. I listened I laughed. I met many wonderful people who were educated, thoughtful and pleasant who were completely Pro Trump. Everyone was lovely, I had to seriously rethink my ideas about the people who voted for him.

The thing that scares me the most now is that now that I'm back in NYC I'm unable to tell who the snakes in the grass are. A even worse, most of them are pretty likable!! Worst. The hat was exceptionally useful, like a sneech with a star upon thars, I felt safer knowing who went into what bracket. Pink Pussy hat = friend, Red Trump hat = enemy. Life was so simple and organized that weekend. Good vs. Evil. Left or right. This is what fucked me up about the election in the first place is that I had been living in a echo chamber of my own creation, full of like minded humans whose brains had evolved past 1952 and who shared similar world views to me about seemingly basic human rights, abortion, education, separation of church and state, the environment, immigration, refugees etc....and while I thought the rest of the country had been advancing in a similar fashion, it turns out that the deep amounts of sadness, hate, frustration, fake news and lack of upward mobility has seemingly turned the judgement of people who normally I'm sure, are lovely kind warm hearted people into xenophobic wall loving trumpeters.

So here we are. We are one country. We are full gorgeous colored humans who came here with all their flavors, dance moves, work ethic, and individual style all adding to the big beautiful crucible that is this big weird fucked up country. We all have to get along somehow. I will say this however, trump folk, you've got four years, 1300 days.... In that time, me and a vast army of kevlar coated pussies are going to be plotting, planning, scheming and dreaming about how to neutralize your hate and banish the patriarchy, because the time for Testosterone is OVER. Millions of galvanized women from all over this great land are organizing and they won't listen to this "Locker Room Talk," anymore.

FUCK THAT.