So, Trump was cleared of impeachment for the second time.
Trump did in fact commit an impeachable offense — sedition. He incited a protest turned mob that halted the peaceful transfer of power in the United States, with the goal of installing a different head of state than the one duly elected by the people.
You probably haven’t heard of a kerfuffle that went down in the online leftist arena recently.
First a word of caution — if you’re concerned this will be another tale of expanding purity tests, infighting, excommunications — well, you’re right. Alas, we proceed.
Welcome to the left.
Our story begins shortly after the election results came rolling in. Democrats had won the House by a narrower margin than they went in with, losing some seats. Control of the Senate was still up in the air. This was before the Georgia special election, after all.
House Representatives Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar…
Dear Biden voters et al,
Now that Trump has been voted out of the White House (yay!), we have a new President. I think it’s fair to view the election as a referendum on Trump, since Biden mainly ran on being not-him, healing the soul of the nation, breaking the fever, etc.
But Trump is out of power. Joe Biden is Leader of the Free World, and as I’ve argued before being “not-Trump” isn’t exactly a policy set to guide one of the world’s superpowers.
So, what does Biden need to do in these next four years? …
I left my grandmother’s room and exited into the 3rd floor lobby. There was a young worker who turned on pro wrestling as he wiped down the place. Maybe he’d snatch snippets of it as he went about his business through the night. He saw me watching him for a moment and dipped his chin in one of those affirmative nods.
I circled the main area towards a waterfall splashing down to the first floor chapel. Light refracted through stained glass windows adorning each floor.
Nan had a stained glass window in her room at our house, a keepsake from…
As my grandmother deteriorated in the hospital room I left behind, I texted my mom that I wanted to talk with her. She had the next shift keeping vigil until I could get my aunt from the airport to the hospital.
I needed to cut the bullshit and have an honest conversation about Nan’s outlook. From where I was sitting at the foot of her bed, things were not looking good. I mentioned that maybe Nan might have a spurt of energy and wake up — my mom said that already happened last night. …
My grandma died. My dad’s mom, that is. I always knew her as Nan, a nickname chosen before she moved in with us 20 years ago. One day she was fine, and later that day, she was dead. She passed. Either way, all at once she was gone.
The first warning I got was early that morning. My dad messaged our family chat with concerned news of her sudden hospitalization. We knew she was scheduled for some standard follow up from a recent surgery, so my brain didn’t immediately jump from irritating complication to never hearing her voice again.
We have our ticket. Kamala Harris was officially nominated as Joe Biden’s VP pick, which has raised questions about the time for criticism and how votes are earned.
The announcement a few weeks ago set off something of a trend online, with committed Democrats demanding that progressives stop critiquing Kamala and her politics. In their defense, it’s just an extension of their insistence to treat Biden and his politics with similar inattention.
Flitting across a friend’s Instagram story was one such popular hot take from Tik Tok. Wayne Felton II was celebrating Kamala’s VP selection, and included a word of…
A friend of mine died the other day. Writing that out is weird. You’re not supposed to die at 37.
Even weirder is that I don’t know if I can call him a friend, because he didn’t know who I was. But here I am missing him anyway.
His name was Michael Brooks, a political commentator I’ve followed for a few years. I watched his show and listened to him talk for hours and hours every week. At the end of YouTube clips, his signoff was: “To get more of the show, subscribe — why wouldn’t you? Don’t be foolish.”
1:18 A.M| My sister works too much. Besides death and taxes, my next most certain thing is her laboring away long after the sun goes down.
For years she’s been a star performer at one of Fortune’s Top 50 companies, surviving and thriving amidst the corporate sharks — always driving forward to keep themselves alive. As a reward for her employee excellence, she got a rare opportunity to work across the ocean in London. She took them up on the offer, and moved 5 time zones away from her East Coast home.
It’s my first time visiting her in the…
Relationships can be damn tricky, and things often don’t go as expected.
The stage is set by our parents and communities and societies with all the trappings of romantic narratives. We’re given scripts of what life is supposed to look like, what they want to see from us.
And the play begins.
In my case the audience was already seated, eyeing the curtain expectantly before I even got to the theatre. Ushers provided complementary tomatoes for when I garbled my lines or danced off beat.
The audience is always there shaping us. And to feel loved, to feel like we…
take some lightning, a kite, and a fat brass key