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For real, last night resistbot actually texted me on its own to remind me this Cassidy-Graham horror show is still on the horizon. On the upside, I’ve used it enough to have unlocked the ability to actually specify which congress person I want to send to. That means I no longer have to try to come up with something that expresses my ire without making it sound like I think poor Bill Nelson has supported the garbage pile of this perpetual repeal attempt. Here was last night’s first Rubio-only fax:

I faxed yesterday, but then I wandered by your official Twitter feed, where your staff wanted us all to see just how supportive and giving you are of the victims of Irma.

I cannot fathom how you can claim sympathy and support for Americans suffering from the force of nature which is a hurricane, but spare none of those emotions for Americans suffering similarly inescapable tragedies such as cancer, type 1 diabetes, or (to bring us back around) long term medical requirements due to injuries sustained in this hurricane and its aftermath.

The Cassidy-Graham legislation on deck to decimate the ACA is the exact opposite of the support you’ve pledged to aid your fellow Americans. Whether it’s removing pre-existing condition protections outright, or encouraging insurance companies to price people with them out of reach, the result is the same: robbing some of the most vulnerable Americans of the help they need to survive.

Please, stop posturing about empathy and unity and start doing something to actually create empathy and unity.

Vote NO on the Cassidy-Graham repeal legislation. Stop engaging in partisan power plays and reach across the aisle to make actual improvements to the ACA. Build, don’t destroy.

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Resistbot Share

Some day I’ll sit down and actually talk substantially about the sorts of things I find overwhelming re: anxiety, but let’s just start with the fact that talking on the phone, especially confrontation on the phone, leaves me quite literally breathless. I’m a writer for a reason: my brain works a whole lot better (or at least feels a whole lot better, which I recognize may not be the same thing) when I can compose, consider, revise.

Which is why I’ve been in love with resistbot. Disclaimer: I am well aware of the fact that phone calls have a more sizable impact than pretty much every other kind of contact with a legislator. I also realize that faxes are still doing more than staring at my phone incapable of hitting the “dial” button.

In any case, my faxes aren’t what you’d call short. When I said I like to compose, I meant it. So I decided maybe I’d share them here, in case anyone else is (1) considering Senate contact (if you are and are capable, I cannot encourage you enough) and (2) under the notion that seeing someone else’s ideas and objections might help solidify their own. Here’s my latest (actual fax was preceded by my name and location to prove constituency):

While Floridians and Texans are trying to piece together their lives after the destructive forces of Harvey and Irma, Senate Republicans are trying to rob people of their access to healthcare with the current Graham Cassidy legislation. Again. Still.

I cannot believe I am contacting my senators again about the same horrific, partisan, power-before-people legislative choices. Correction: I believe it, I just cannot properly express just how disappointed I am in the basic lack of humanity shown by the Republican Party.

As before, as ever, I cannot express strongly enough my complete and total opposition to the Graham Cassidy monstrosity which once again threatens the most vulnerable among us.

In the wake of natural disasters, as we have all seen how precious and fragile life is, I urge you to vote for the nation that came together in support of their fellow Americans, that redistributed its resources to help those in dire need.

Vote NO on Graham Cassidy, urge your fellow senators to work on ACTUAL improvements to the ACA, and to abandon this phyrric war which puts showing power at all costs above using power to HELP our fellow Americans.

I continue to watch, and will be sure to use my voice and put my vote to work based on what I see.

That Word. I Think It Both Does and Does Not Mean What You Think It Means

Doing or saying or thinking a racist thing does not make you a cross-burning, hood-wearing, swastika-sporting Racist. I think that’s important to articulate because, much the same way people seem to get confused by marriage the secular set of rights vs marriage the religious institution, the resonance of the same word applied to different circumstances makes it difficult to parse on an emotional level. It’s vital that people are able to identify racism in themselves without feeling that any such identification makes them some villainous terror.

However, and just as important to articulate, is that doing or saying or thinking a racist thing is also not entirely divorced from cross burning and hood wearing and swastika sporting. It’s not a straight line, certainly, but on one level that’s how systemic abuse works. It makes “tiny things” easy to hand wave off. It requires people to “have a sense of humor” about said tiny things. And, in isolation, perhaps that off-color joke or that tension in our shoulders or the way we whisper certain colors or tell someone they don’t act like one or more stereotype are small.

Except they aren’t in isolation, and it doesn’t matter how small something is if there’s enough of it. It doesn’t even matter how little of it comes at a time if it never stops coming. A handful of sand each day is meaningless, if we sweep it up and throw it away.

But if we leave it, if we groan at the people who ask us to clean up after ourselves, if we argue it’s not our fault the dust bin is already overflowing, if we say ‘it’s just a little sand what’s the big deal?’ Then it’s not just a handful of sand each day. It’s a handful of sand every day, and soon enough, there’s a great big beautiful sandbox for the people who like playing in the dirt to take advantage of, and guess who’s buried underneath?

Your New Boyfriend Is an Asshole, and You Know It: a Fable

Here’s the thing: your friends warned you when you started dating this new guy that he was bad news. They told you stories about the stuff he’d done to mutual friends. They told you the kinds of things he was saying about them. But he promised he was going to take care of you and give you nice things and how important you were to him. So you told your friends they just didn’t understand. He had a different sense of humor. He was a little blunt, sure, but they were blowing everything out of proportion.

You continued to believe it when he went to court to force the Sanchez family to tear down the pool they always let you use so he could build that eyesore of a fence between you. When he blew off taking Gran to her heart transplant surgical consult because his friend Josh needed to have a corn removed. RSVP’d “no” with a Bible verse to both Lance and Henry’s wedding *and* little Hannah Goldman’s bat mitzvah.

You told Fatima she was totally over-reacting when he made that comment about wanting her to take a few laps around the block before coming in so she wouldn’t stink up the place. And while you and he were the only ones who knew where Celia and her son moved, there’s no way he told her abusive ex how to find her — even if her ex is an investor in the firm.

Yes, out of town clients got wasted when they came over, but it’s not *his* fault they retaliated against the Johnsons’ noise complaint by vandalizing their house.

No, you aren’t your new boyfriend. And he may be sweet as all get out when you’re alone. But at this point, it’s time to stop pretending you don’t understand why the Johnsons turned their noses up at your basket of apology muffins. Why the Sanchez family won’t answer the door even though their cars are in the drive. Why Lance and Henry returned your wedding gift and they and the Goldmans and Celia and Fatima aren’t returning your calls. You know why, just like you know why Gran gets a “tone” when you use unpaid time off to take her to the doctor.

On My Being, Political

It is once again the time of year when people in my social media feeds start posting about Not Removing Friends Over Politics. I’ll paraphrase here, but given the content is pretty much of a piece, I’m all right boiling it down to variations on one or more of these:

Friends are more important than simple politics.

We have to be able to have intellectual discussions about political issues.

If you ‘unfriend’ people, you’re choosing to cut off thought in favor of emotion.

The problem with all of these is that they insist on characterizing “politics” as an emotionless, intellectual debate. If it’s political, it’s just an idea, after all. Except that in this case the ‘idea’ up for debate is the actual humanity of another person.

I’m not sure if this “politics is ideas” thing is intentional gaslighting or a profound lack of understanding, but it’s infuriating in either case. If it’s the latter, I have serious concerns for the posters’ ability to navigate the world, since apparently they think people are severing ties over things like interstate highway routes and the taxes on a fresh strawberry. Which means they’re completely missing the part where people’s RIGHT TO EXIST is up for debate. In which case: yes. We need to be talking to those precious little flowers, because there is a whole lot of reality that’s not getting in.

In the former case, however, someone is well aware that one side of the debate is “I exist and deserve the same level of humanity as everyone else,” and the other is “It makes me uncomfortable if you exist, so could you maybe stop doing that?” I mean, yes, one side is existential, but the others side is an actual person. Saying that someone who is already fighting madly to gain or retain their humanity must also put up with having that humanity turned into something to be puzzled over like it’s choosing which Jenga piece to pull is just gross.

Trust me, I wish that the very fact of my gay existence weren’t political, but right now it is. People are debating whether I deserve service, whether I deserve employment, whether I deserve to marry, raise children, inherit. For a lot of people of marginalized identities, politics isn’t something they get to choose to enter or exit. Everyday interactions, from going to work to just holding hands, bring their very self up for scrutiny such that daring to draw breath becomes a political act.

Look, I absolutely agree that, in the case when the marginalized have the emotional energy to engage, that engagement is invaluable. However, it is also profoundly unfair to insist that people who are already assaulted by the world must engage, and must engage in all venues and on all platforms, and must engage with the same emotional distance that someone whose humanity is a given has the luxury of maintaining. That kind of insistence, whether willfully or ignorantly blind to the reality of the imbalance at work, winds up being just another abuse. It’s one more damn thing someone who’s struggling to survive has to worry about before they try to scrounge up the resources to actually enter the fray.

And anyone who’s standing around making pronouncements about understanding ought to make sure they understand that first and foremost.

Missing by a Hair’s Breadth

I’ve started to hear a lot of applause for Bernie Sanders’ “no nonsense” response to a question about Hillary Clinton’s hair coverage by the media:

When the media worries about what Hillary’s hair looks like or what my hair looks like, that’s a real problem. We have millions of people who are struggling to keep their heads above water, who want to know what candidates can do to improve their lives, and the media will very often spend more time worrying about hair than the fact that we’re the only major country on earth that doesn’t guarantee health care to all people.

It looks good on its face, I suppose: Sanders is, in general, running on a platform that he’s not putting up with the media circus because there are stakes which deserve better than spin and calculation about the best news cycle. “Hair questions” are silly.

The big problem here is that I think someone who thinks that way ought to have more than enough insight to realize “Do you think it’s fair that Hillary’s hair gets a lot more scrutiny than yours does?” isn’t about hair. The media focus on female candidates’ appearance is the least painful symptom, surely, but nevertheless a symptom of gender inequality.

This was, then, a prime opportunity for Sanders to discuss the way women’s health is a political football or the pay gap between men and women (and, for extra intersectionality, the even larger gap for women of color).

Yes, Sanders mentions both financial distress and health care in his dismissal of the question, but because he flatly ignores the gender element (even after the interviewer explicitly says this is about gender) the whole thing winds up taking the unfortunate tone of some kind of #AllLivesMatter tweet.

Then again, in the same interview, Sanders expresses his surprise at having Black Lives Matter activists interrupt an event that was to feature him, pointing to his record on civil rights. Said record is good. I’m not trying to impugn anyone’s efforts here.

I am saying, though, that maybe the reason activists come at Sanders are the same reason a reporter who happens to be female thought she could ask him a not-particularly-coded question about gender inequality and he wouldn’t need it spelled out for him: because the people most likely to help, by signal boosting or allowing for their own errors or checking their privilege, are going to be those who’ve done so in the past.

And if we can’t get them to recognize the ongoing issues, how the hell can we expect to move the needle when it comes to those firmly entrenched in opposing rhetoric?

Never Lock Your Doors

My father is a retired police officer. Which, let’s start out, doesn’t qualify me as any kind of expert on law enforcement. We’re not playing that game. However, it does mean that I heard more than once the following ideology (paraphrased, because it took a lot of forms, and I can’t promise the veracity of a direct quote): you don’t lock your doors to keep the criminals out. You lock your doors to keep out the honest people.

That’s always stuck with me. Folks can bust in just about anywhere, to get just about anything, if they’re bound and determined to do so. But a reasonable set of obstacles will stop quite a few people from bothering. It’s kind of a compromise with nihilism, I suppose, which may be why I enjoy it1. And with all this NSA eavesdropping nonsense, it’s found itself a new purpose.

I hear a lot of folks just sort of shrugging, admitting the inevitability of data mining both corporate and governmental. If you want to be able to function in ye not so olde Internet Age, you can’t pick and choose your way out of the mining. I get that. And in that case, they’re going to get it anyway, so why bother worrying about it, right?

For the same reason I still lock my doors. Are the unscrupulous going to remain unscrupulous? Of course they are. Are they likely to try to scam what they want from you no matter what? Yes. But that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for them. You can try to hold a foot or two to the fire. Especially when those feet belong to your government.

Privacy is a massive push and pull, especially in the ever-expanding overshare that is the Internet. But if no one pushes back … let’s just say I’d very much rather read Aldous Huxley and Ray Bradbury and Margaret Atwood than play a part in one of their novels. Which is why I enjoyed The NSA Video

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go visit my Twitter feed…

(via Upworthy)

1. Here I picture Nihilism, locked in a room with his cousins Practicality and Optimism, and told they’ll none of them be getting out until they stop squabbling so much. Which Nihilism says is just fine with him, until he’s heard Optimism’s effusive praise of the decor and Practicality’s plan for setting up a self-sufficient society in the room and a trade agreement with the kitchen, at which point he falls to the floor and begs for mercy.