The Tyranny of Evil Men, or Furious Anger

Fuck Nazis.

And the KKK, and the white supremacists, and the Confederates.  Fuck ’em.

This is an exercise in writing angry.  Consider it a counterweight to acceptance.

I’m angry that Heather Heyer is dead.  I’m angry that these hate-filled groups feel so emboldened by their President’s rhetoric they march unmasked.  I’m angry the streets of Charlottesville were forced to host this virus.  I’m angry that Trump couldn’t even act Presidential for goddamned once.

I’m angry the poster boy for hate attends my alma mater.  That he dares to declare himself, “not a racist.”  Well, when you lie down with dogs, my friend.

I’m angry that the men and women who fought against fascists in Germany have lived long enough to see it crawl onto the streets of Charlottesville, San Antonio, Portland.

I’m angry that my country, that I was willing to die for in Afghanistan, has let this wound fester.

I’m angry that I don’t know the best way to deal with this hatred.  Should we ignore it, strip it of its potency in the media?  Or does that feed it?  Does that give free range to these individuals to further harass and intimidate?

I’m angry at our system of capitalism for fostering an idea that the promotion of equality means there are losers.

I’m angry that the First Amendment protects the droolings of these fascists, though I would have it no other way.

I’m angry that the United States of America has become a little more frightening for those I love.

I’m angry at the sycophants and political cowards who dog-whistled these groups, who only now recognize the deal they made.

I’m angry I even have to write this.  That in 2017, I am not discussing the colonization of Mars or how we worked together to fight climate change or adjust to a changing economy, but Nazis in Virginia.

I’m angry at false equivalencies.  I read the grasping claws from the muck of Facebook trying to compare BLM with the naked hate on display.  Straining to construct a defense of ‘history,’ and how monuments should be sacred. Making some paper-maiche case of how these young white men (and women) are disenfranchised.  I’m tired of this bullshit.

I’m angry I don’t know how to write about Black Lives Matter better, or rather the conversation it sparks.  The same with LGBTQ issues.  I don’t know how to be the best ally, and I try to at the least understand my privilege as a straight, white, cis-gender male.  And I know the movement doesn’t need to be about me and how I feel, the concessions I want, the acknowledgement of being a “good liberal.”  Because at the heart of it, I know the varied groups and causes are fighting for a better America, an America I believe in, an America for all.  And this is right.

I’m angry because fascism is wrong.  White supremacy is wrong.  Antisemitism is wrong.  These ideas represent fundamental denials of human rights.  The language these groups use is that of fear, hate, repression.  Cleansing, purity, taking “it back,”–what version of America is this?  A version minorities have for too long been too aware, now naked and exposed for all.  And yet, our President himself subscribes to blame on “all sides?”  There are only two sides, Mr. President–wrong and right.  Where do you stand amidst history?

And lastly, I’m angry I didn’t get to punch a Nazi in the face.

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