Darkness and Rage in the Days of Trump

The 1461 days of Trump. They’re pervasive, loathsome and relentless.  They disturb what would otherwise be our quiet times.  They inflame us with a heretofore unknown rage. They spawn the worst in us and they bleed us dry of hope, aspiration and our expectations of prosperity and basic comforts. They rob us of security and leech our souls of optimism. They’re deathless zombies that foment our rage, haunt our nights and pillage our dreams.  As Americans they leave us fearful about rights and justice and mortified as citizens of the world. These are the days of Trump.

The ICE Man Cometh

The Latino workers who drive the forklifts, do the shipping, receiving, clerical work and run our production line walked off the job last Thursday.  I wasn’t there (the office that I work in is a 30 minute drive away) but I imagine you could’ve heard a pin drop.  That is, I imagine, when a manager wasn’t having a fit.  The news trickled into our office building around mid-morning and there were varying reactions. I was in the break room when one of my co-workers walked in and said jokingly to another sitting at a table, “See what happens when you voted for Trump?”

I turned to the seated man, “You voted for Trump?  Howabout if I  come over there and kick your ass.” And yeah I was joking – sort of.

Seated man said, “You heard what happened?  That’s not right.”  I told him that I supported the warehouse workers.  ‘ Fuck that!” I’m right on board with ‘em.”

There were varied reactions in our office. I can guess what the managers in that building thought but they were more or less hamstrung for the short term; can’t fire the entire crew on each shift. But I’m not ruling out some reprisal down the road.  The warehouse manager isn’t exactly a sweetheart and the company lost a full day of receiving, producing and shipping; and of course, revenue. Because that’s what it’s all about - money, money and more money.  The cause of human rights and compassion are fine but do it on your own time and don’t get in the way of revenue. Thursday was the Day Without Immigrants protest and it hit our company right in the bank account which was of course part of the overall goal; show the nation and most importantly the Trump regime that immigrants help keep the machine moving.

Hope is...

Our last post was about the Trump triggered gloom that so many of us are waking up to every morning.  We get up in the morning with a case of the heebie-jeebies wondering what Trumpian mischief we’ll be greeted with.  And then we continue through the day to learn that the President of the United States actually tweeted another inanity or vomited more vengeful bile. It's a routine that's become demoralizing and physically tiring.   

We’re less than three weeks into what’s already seemed like a blackish eternity and hope has been a rarity; a little flicker in a dark dank cavern of tyranny.  But it’s made its presence known, hope has.  And when it does we smile, pump a fist and exclaim, “Yes!”  In any resistance even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant little victory is cause for hope. It serves to bolster the notion that we’re keeping at bay the degradation of our democracy and all that America is supposed to stand for.  Every victory is a promise to repair the damage to America’s reputation that’s being done by the charlatan squatter currently occupying the White House.    

Hope started the very first day with the Women’s Marches where legions of like-minded men and women in all 50 states and 60 countries told Trump and his minions that no, we are not going to go gentle into your dark night.  And since that first day we’ve seen what hope can be and what hope is.