I Dunno, Caroline
My Voice feels shaky lately.
This article is from the original Chicano in Paris recently moved here to its new home.
I was angry when The Orange Troglodyte™ won the election in November. That has gradually been replaced by exhaustion coupled with an overall malaise.
I should care. I want to care. But I mostly do not care.
Then the inauguration came and went and I tried like hell to spend the day ignoring every bit of it. Then one of my asshole friends sent a meme with The Orange Troglodyte™’s face emblazoned upon it - I closed the chat before I even bothered reading any words on said meme. I was fucking annoyed. Once I am annoyed I get more and more annoyed as the minutes and hours tick away.
I sat and I stewed. I replayed a conversation I’d had with that same friend as he tried to educate me on just why Kamala Harris lost the election. Some horseshit to do with people being angry about Palestine so they stayed home.
Cuz fuck everyone if we don’t help my particular group, amiright? Is how I heard the argument at the time.
As I sat there replaying this conversation in my head on inauguration day I started to see blips about executive orders the assclown was already signing.1
Releasing the traitors from January 6.
Ending birthright citizenship.
Shitting all over trans rights. (This one really pisses me off)
Leaving the Paris Climate Accords. (btw, whose dumbass idea was it to make the French ambassador some asshole who cannot speak French?)
Having Mike Milley’s portrait removed from all Federal buildings. Jesus Christ, this screams insecure white man.
Ending Medicare price caps.
Immigration fuckery.
Oh yeah, and then there was that fucking Nazi salute.
The list went on and on and on and fucking on. More and more and more annoyed I did get.
And so, despite my promise to myself, I posted some angry, trifling bullshit - screaming into the void as it were - and tried to forget it. I got it out of my system and thought per usual nobody is going to give a shit and nothing is going to change. But at least my anger had an outlet and now I could get back to watching the College Football Pregame.
Until I heard Nick Saban’s voice - nails on a fucking chalkboard - and then I turned it off until kickoff and played video games instead.
As my PS5 was firing up I checked social media real quick and saw one comment on my post that made me stop.
Your voice is needed these days
-my friend Caroline
Initially I thought, no, I am the last person who needs to be adding to the conversation. All I have is anger. And anyway, I feel like my voice is as useful as a tiara on a turd™ these days. No, better to have adults talking; people far smarter than I can ever hope to be.
But I have had time to sit with it and … I dunno. Maybe I can swing a few haymakers from time to time. I mean, the entirety of the United States media is owned by rich old white fucks with an agenda so it’s not like you’ll get reliable reporting from them.
So here’s what I propose, Caroline (and Cory - yeah, I got your PM): from time to time I’ll give you the rundown on what people here in France are thinking and how decisions in the US are impacting people here.
I can tell you that the French recently celebrated the death of a right wing wannabe dictator the way only the French can. So, you can imagine how the masses here feel about The Orange Troglodyte™. And they are less than pleased about the nepo-bullshit, non-french speaking Charle Kushner as the new French ambassador. So there’s your first, hard hitting update.2
If I do anymore than the ocassional update I will spiral into anger and vitriol because - well, fucking look at the country two days in. I feel like Al Pacino has the only answer to what ails my beloved country.
And, between just us, Caroline, my heart is still broken over what my country has become. Looking back for too long just hurts, ya know?
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