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COVID39
Mark Millien
41 episodes
8 months ago
Randi confronts a stranger she knows. Cast Randi Halle Millien Shane Mark Millien Victor Coyotito Kelly / Mark Millien SFX and Music Contributors SFX Q Tone [Query] Tone 4.wav by patchen of freesound.org Q Tone [Response] Tone 3.wav by patchen of freesound.org Victor Drop thud2.wav by Topschool of freesound.org The L FOLEY - BODY FALL IMPACT.wav by cjosephwalker of freesound.org Music Marcus’ Letter Theme Twilight Zone by MelodicMoe of looperman.com Created by Mark and Halle Millien Cover Art by Halle Millien Written, Directed and Produced by Mark Millien Thank you to everyone that has supported us during this difficult time. Thank you to the protesters risking their bodies and health. Thank you to the medical professionals who are healing bodies or granting them peace. Thanks dad. To Mitch, who I originally wanted to for the role of Victor, I dedicate this to your wellness and freedom. Glossary ECCO: multinational corporation specializing in deep fake and catfish tech. modulator: a voice synthesizer that mimics real voices from high quality samples. #covid39 #covid19 #createathome #coronavirus #quarantine #rona #quarantinechronicles #covidchronicles #coronachronicles #quibi #generationc #flattenthecurve #stayathome #welcometowinnetkaheights #oakcliffdallas #atlanta #castleberyhill #theuninformedparent #covidpodcast #applepodcast #spotifypodcast #listen #scriptedpodcast #scifipodcast #scriptnotes #newpodcast #audiostories #amplifymelanatedvoices #amplifyblackvoices #shareblackstories #tiktok #dad Marcus’ Letter: When your folks sent out the email for this project I was like cool, I dig time capsules. But then I was like, shit, that means I gotta type an email. I know that I could’ve left a video or audio joint, but I felt like with everything going on, I wanted to type something that I could edit and get right. That I could look at and read through, and if I read it out loud it would’ve felt like a performance, and given the moment we’re living through, I wanted to do it justice. And so it took me awhile to get it together and send this out. Your dad’s are my oldest friends, so this is humbling, I take this very personally. You aren’t too young to understand what’s going on. You’re all smart kids. I think about y’all a lot, wondering what the world will be like when you’re my age. What you’ll remember about this time we’re all surviving. I know people who have lost someone recently. Some because of COVID, some just because they were unlucky enough to die during a pandemic. I’ve heard about the awkward Zoom ceremonies. Old people not knowing to mute their feed or unaware that any noise they make centers the video away from whomever is speaking. Rambling. And the typical inappropriate speeches that go on that seem more cringey because you’re wearing a bathrobe while giving it. Today was George Floyd’s memorial. Al Sharpton was there, of course. He beseeched those in earshot, America in this case, to get your knees off our necks. I wonder what America will do with that advice. She’s always been a stubborn kind of kid, convinced of her own nobility despite evidence to the contrary. They set bail for the officers, the other three that were there when Floyd died, at $750,000. Seems like a lot, but the police unions have fairly deep pockets. Police unions. Who knew there were ANY unions left with power, much less ones holding cities hostage. We’ve learned a lot about cops lately. We, US, we always knew but now everyone is getting glimpses. Like how often and to what degree the police will blatantly lie. There was this protester in Buffalo who the police pushed over as they went to close off the area. Pushed him to the ground and left him to spasm and bleed on the pavement. He was a 75 year old white man. They said he tripped and fell when there’s clear video evidence that he was pushed. White people are getting a front row seat to how they manipulate the narrative unfairly, triggering fresh distrust in communities with calcified police resentment. It’s also an opportunity for people with no interest in the truth to tell you how they really feel. It’s...so crazy. These people think we don’t like the police because they stop us from being the criminals we were born to be. Dogwhistles are gone. Now they just say it. Honestly, I’m thankful for it, because it reconciles so many things I never really understood before. How they absentmindedly strip us of our humanity. How the tears of white women super-cede the lives of black women. It’s because they really think we foster a culture of crime that comes to us naturally, genetically. Like we’re the human version of pit bulls, prone to aggression and a physiological yearning for rigid discipline. Some of them know the history and dismiss it. How cops were always the enforcers of legal inequalities. The word systemic scares them so much that they’ve forgotten that Jim Crow refers to a set of laws, not strongly held opinions or cultural norms. Forgotten is my way of being generous. Separate but equal was always a spoonful of sugar in a barrel of poison and they knew it then and they know it now. They’ve always been talented at telling digestible lies designed to hide inconvenient truths. We want to close abortion clinics to protect the health of women. We want to support ID and signature laws to protect the integrity of elections, even though there is zero evidence of widespread voter fraud. Climate change is a hoax. Dogmatic individualism, except when it comes to a woman’s body. Guns rights, unless the cold dead hands holding them are black or brown. And on and on and on. I wonder what stories the right wing will make up about this old man. His age won’t save him, not from their machine. There’s evidence that Travis McMichael, the white man that shot Ahmaud Arbery, called him a fucking nigger, as he lay there dying. Dying because Travis shot him. I wonder how long it will be before they stand before a judge, him, his father, and their neighbor, and claim that they aren’t guilty of anything, that they did nothing wrong and that he was armed with the concrete of the road, like Trayvon’s lawyer argured. Given the tumultuous times, the president decided he wasn’t safe enough behind the walls of the White House or the men and women of the Secret Service or his military attaches and what not, so he built a wall around it, the White House, so that the protesters can’t get him. I wonder if it’ll still be up as some kind of odd monument somewhere when you hear this. Tattooed in black lives matter iconography. I look around at a lot of things and wonder if they’ll be in a museum someday. So much about now seems destined for archives and study and discussion. How did we get here? Are these the last days of the last empire? Will we be mourned? What will be left for the meek to inherit? Ex soldiers are making their way into the protests, inciting violence, a group called Boogaloo. Semi-automatic rifles and Hawaiian shirts. The feds just charged three of them as conspirators to terrorism, while Rand Paul is holding up anti-lynching legislation in the Senate. Reporters are no longer safe. They’ve been shot, beaten, sprayed, arrested, and intimidated. International Journalistic integrity organizations have expressed concerns, like we’re Saudi Arabia or something. Newspapers are having their own reckoning with the moment, the movement. On Thursday the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a headline that said “Buildings Matter Too”. A couple dozen reporters called in sick. The New York Times published an op-ed written by Tom Cotton titled “Send in the Troops.” 800 staff members signed a letter in protest. No one is prepared for this. No one has the answers. Everyone is flailing, but we are still showing up. We are fighting. Right now it doesn’t feel like enough. How did they do it? Turn the other cheek? How did Dr. King have that kind of discipline for so long? But he was wrong about some things too, the preacher and the activist. At least, I don’t think it can work today. If you two are to inherit anything, my suggestion is, abandon meekness. These people are incapable of shame and there’s no longer any such thing as shared truth. The movement then was capable of persuading hearts and minds is dead. Don’t trust these allies, they are fairweather. Bored. Resentful of confinement. Trust yourselves, your family, and that America has not been subtle about her intentions.
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Drama
Fiction,
Science Fiction
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Randi confronts a stranger she knows. Cast Randi Halle Millien Shane Mark Millien Victor Coyotito Kelly / Mark Millien SFX and Music Contributors SFX Q Tone [Query] Tone 4.wav by patchen of freesound.org Q Tone [Response] Tone 3.wav by patchen of freesound.org Victor Drop thud2.wav by Topschool of freesound.org The L FOLEY - BODY FALL IMPACT.wav by cjosephwalker of freesound.org Music Marcus’ Letter Theme Twilight Zone by MelodicMoe of looperman.com Created by Mark and Halle Millien Cover Art by Halle Millien Written, Directed and Produced by Mark Millien Thank you to everyone that has supported us during this difficult time. Thank you to the protesters risking their bodies and health. Thank you to the medical professionals who are healing bodies or granting them peace. Thanks dad. To Mitch, who I originally wanted to for the role of Victor, I dedicate this to your wellness and freedom. Glossary ECCO: multinational corporation specializing in deep fake and catfish tech. modulator: a voice synthesizer that mimics real voices from high quality samples. #covid39 #covid19 #createathome #coronavirus #quarantine #rona #quarantinechronicles #covidchronicles #coronachronicles #quibi #generationc #flattenthecurve #stayathome #welcometowinnetkaheights #oakcliffdallas #atlanta #castleberyhill #theuninformedparent #covidpodcast #applepodcast #spotifypodcast #listen #scriptedpodcast #scifipodcast #scriptnotes #newpodcast #audiostories #amplifymelanatedvoices #amplifyblackvoices #shareblackstories #tiktok #dad Marcus’ Letter: When your folks sent out the email for this project I was like cool, I dig time capsules. But then I was like, shit, that means I gotta type an email. I know that I could’ve left a video or audio joint, but I felt like with everything going on, I wanted to type something that I could edit and get right. That I could look at and read through, and if I read it out loud it would’ve felt like a performance, and given the moment we’re living through, I wanted to do it justice. And so it took me awhile to get it together and send this out. Your dad’s are my oldest friends, so this is humbling, I take this very personally. You aren’t too young to understand what’s going on. You’re all smart kids. I think about y’all a lot, wondering what the world will be like when you’re my age. What you’ll remember about this time we’re all surviving. I know people who have lost someone recently. Some because of COVID, some just because they were unlucky enough to die during a pandemic. I’ve heard about the awkward Zoom ceremonies. Old people not knowing to mute their feed or unaware that any noise they make centers the video away from whomever is speaking. Rambling. And the typical inappropriate speeches that go on that seem more cringey because you’re wearing a bathrobe while giving it. Today was George Floyd’s memorial. Al Sharpton was there, of course. He beseeched those in earshot, America in this case, to get your knees off our necks. I wonder what America will do with that advice. She’s always been a stubborn kind of kid, convinced of her own nobility despite evidence to the contrary. They set bail for the officers, the other three that were there when Floyd died, at $750,000. Seems like a lot, but the police unions have fairly deep pockets. Police unions. Who knew there were ANY unions left with power, much less ones holding cities hostage. We’ve learned a lot about cops lately. We, US, we always knew but now everyone is getting glimpses. Like how often and to what degree the police will blatantly lie. There was this protester in Buffalo who the police pushed over as they went to close off the area. Pushed him to the ground and left him to spasm and bleed on the pavement. He was a 75 year old white man. They said he tripped and fell when there’s clear video evidence that he was pushed. White people are getting a front row seat to how they manipulate the narrative unfairly, triggering fresh distrust in communities with calcified police resentment. It’s also an opportunity for people with no interest in the truth to tell you how they really feel. It’s...so crazy. These people think we don’t like the police because they stop us from being the criminals we were born to be. Dogwhistles are gone. Now they just say it. Honestly, I’m thankful for it, because it reconciles so many things I never really understood before. How they absentmindedly strip us of our humanity. How the tears of white women super-cede the lives of black women. It’s because they really think we foster a culture of crime that comes to us naturally, genetically. Like we’re the human version of pit bulls, prone to aggression and a physiological yearning for rigid discipline. Some of them know the history and dismiss it. How cops were always the enforcers of legal inequalities. The word systemic scares them so much that they’ve forgotten that Jim Crow refers to a set of laws, not strongly held opinions or cultural norms. Forgotten is my way of being generous. Separate but equal was always a spoonful of sugar in a barrel of poison and they knew it then and they know it now. They’ve always been talented at telling digestible lies designed to hide inconvenient truths. We want to close abortion clinics to protect the health of women. We want to support ID and signature laws to protect the integrity of elections, even though there is zero evidence of widespread voter fraud. Climate change is a hoax. Dogmatic individualism, except when it comes to a woman’s body. Guns rights, unless the cold dead hands holding them are black or brown. And on and on and on. I wonder what stories the right wing will make up about this old man. His age won’t save him, not from their machine. There’s evidence that Travis McMichael, the white man that shot Ahmaud Arbery, called him a fucking nigger, as he lay there dying. Dying because Travis shot him. I wonder how long it will be before they stand before a judge, him, his father, and their neighbor, and claim that they aren’t guilty of anything, that they did nothing wrong and that he was armed with the concrete of the road, like Trayvon’s lawyer argured. Given the tumultuous times, the president decided he wasn’t safe enough behind the walls of the White House or the men and women of the Secret Service or his military attaches and what not, so he built a wall around it, the White House, so that the protesters can’t get him. I wonder if it’ll still be up as some kind of odd monument somewhere when you hear this. Tattooed in black lives matter iconography. I look around at a lot of things and wonder if they’ll be in a museum someday. So much about now seems destined for archives and study and discussion. How did we get here? Are these the last days of the last empire? Will we be mourned? What will be left for the meek to inherit? Ex soldiers are making their way into the protests, inciting violence, a group called Boogaloo. Semi-automatic rifles and Hawaiian shirts. The feds just charged three of them as conspirators to terrorism, while Rand Paul is holding up anti-lynching legislation in the Senate. Reporters are no longer safe. They’ve been shot, beaten, sprayed, arrested, and intimidated. International Journalistic integrity organizations have expressed concerns, like we’re Saudi Arabia or something. Newspapers are having their own reckoning with the moment, the movement. On Thursday the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a headline that said “Buildings Matter Too”. A couple dozen reporters called in sick. The New York Times published an op-ed written by Tom Cotton titled “Send in the Troops.” 800 staff members signed a letter in protest. No one is prepared for this. No one has the answers. Everyone is flailing, but we are still showing up. We are fighting. Right now it doesn’t feel like enough. How did they do it? Turn the other cheek? How did Dr. King have that kind of discipline for so long? But he was wrong about some things too, the preacher and the activist. At least, I don’t think it can work today. If you two are to inherit anything, my suggestion is, abandon meekness. These people are incapable of shame and there’s no longer any such thing as shared truth. The movement then was capable of persuading hearts and minds is dead. Don’t trust these allies, they are fairweather. Bored. Resentful of confinement. Trust yourselves, your family, and that America has not been subtle about her intentions.
Show more...
Drama
Fiction,
Science Fiction
https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/57f957f446c3c42b614f6972/1586277836534-UJH023I5JH9VC9WHS3ZE/COVID+39+V2.jpg?format=1500w
COVID39: Chapter 33
COVID39
14 minutes 4 seconds
5 years ago
COVID39: Chapter 33
Shane begins to trusts Randi’s inexplicable instincts. Sean Monterrosa James Scurlock David McAtee Breonna Taylor Dallas Protests June 2, 2020 Weathering Cast Randi Halle Millien Shane Mark Millien Mara La SFX and Music Contributors SFX Q Tone [Query] Tone 4.wav by patchen of freesound.org Q Tone [Response] Tone 3.wav by patchen of freesound.org Gunshot Heathers Gunshot Effect2.wav by okieactor of freesound.org Music Mara’s Letter Theme My Heart Sets In The West by Planetjazzbass of looperman.com Created by Mark and Halle Millien Cover Art by Halle Millien Written, Directed and Produced by Mark Millien Thank you to everyone that has supported us during this difficult time. Thank you to the protesters risking their bodies and health. Thank you to the medical professionals who are healing bodies or granting them peace. Thanks dad. Dedicated to my brother Mitchel and the future of our family. Mara’s Letter: I’ve had a hard time figuring out what I am supposed to be doing right now. People are feeling “called” to things, to do things in this moment. To show up. “Where and when” is how you’re supposed to respond. “Sign me up.”  Less than that, and you’re not sufficiently woke. And people tend to react strongly to accusations of being complicit to the institutions of white supremacy. Your father, he doesn’t think I react strongly to anything. He’s out now. At a protest. They’ve made their way over the bridge, apparently, complying with the downtown curfew.  Like everything else in this city, even the agitators are milquetoast. The crowds at the White House yesterday were gassed, right next to the famous church at Lafayette Park. One minute he’s in the Rose Garden giving a speech, evading questions, or answering them in the most selfishly convoluted ways possible. You could hear it like ambient noise as the backdrop to his rhetoric, people screaming and unnamed soldiers pressing. He called them terrorists. He said that he would call in the military if governors didn’t have the stomach to declare war on their citizens.  Then he left the dais and strolled across the park, to take a picture with a bible, one he couldn’t claim as his own, and held it up like a hostage with a proof of life document, while the cameras clicked. Afterward, the Arlington police chief removed his detachment, seemingly disgusted that they’d been used to remove the protestors so that the Commander in Chief could dip his toe in militant evangelical propaganda. I’m trying to keep a grip on all the loose threads that keep slipping from my fingers and somehow I’m not doing enough, but I am exhausted. Everyday. By the time I’ve made dinner or cleaned up dinner or wrangled the mulish children towards their bedtime rituals, after a day of redundant meetings, hosted by an employer that is laying off people every few weeks, cutting the pay of those they decide to keep, and trying to solve EVERYTHING for everyone, I have nothing left. Nothing. I’m angry that I feel guilty. I’m hurt that I feel lazy. I’m frustrated that I feel frustrated. I’m anxious that I’m excited by nothing. This carousel is killing me. It’s just too much. Should I be reading more or less? Should I be speaking up at my job that is making expendable decisions or applaud any minimal effort they muster In Black life appeasement? I can’t organize a virtual walkout! I don’t work at Facebook! Am I supposed to memorize all the names? Breonna Taylor’s killers still haven’t been arrested. Sean Monterrosa is a new one. A peaceful protester who put his hands up and kneeled right before a police officer shot him five times through the windshield of his unmarked car, because of the gun he saw in his pant’s pocket that turned out to be a hammer. I should have a better handle on this, three months in. I should have adapted to this new shitty normal. I should be sponsoring teachers or composing the new black anthem or finding a cure to common idiocy. I should be finding inspiration in the “movement”. But I’m not. I don’t. It’s been a week since the protests started. The EU has weighed in, calling out American cops for appalling abuses of power. The world is watching and they’re siding with us, but you think that’s stopped them? Twenty-three states have called in the National Guard, thousands have been arrested, and they keep beating us, maiming us, killing us, while the world is watching. And not just us. Old. Young. Black. White. Asian. But mostly poor. There are wildfires in Siberia. Right now. It’s 20 degrees hotter there than on average. Siberia. We are broke. We have no savings. Where would I find another job, in this climate? Where is my hope supposed to come from? What I won’t do is put that on you two. You are coming of age in all of this. You’ll grow up suspicious of the air you breathe and the company it keeps. A white supremacist, more obvious than most, sits in the White House. I’m supposed to look to our children to save us? Am I wrong to feel like we don’t deserve to be saved? That we owed you more than this? The marching has lasted longer than I thought it would this time, I don’t know what makes it different, but am I supposed to think it will last or that it will change anything? Why am I not enough? To provide for our family? To teach you? To raise you in strength? To keep you safe? The maternal mortality rate in America is absurdly high for a first world country. Most of it is due to the rate of death from black women who are pregnant. All of the research suggests that it is not physiological or economic or any of the natural drivers of illness and susceptibility. The research indicates that it is prolonged exposure to racism. That it eats away at the core of you, forcing your body to make a choice. You, or the baby, and so many of the mothers die. A woman asked me yesterday at the store, how I was doing. I think I was supposed to know her. This white woman standing too close, eyes anchored with concern over the brim of her star-spangled mask. I think we’ve met. She seemed so genuine. I told her I was weathered. That’s the term for it. The accumulated abuse of macro and microaggressions. Weathered. She had no idea what I meant but she wanted to help me, she asked me what she could do, she was so desperate to fix it. I showed her a picture of you two, along with Randi and Harrison, on my phone from just a few days ago running inside from the backyard as the sky opened wide and an avalanche of rain funneled from bright clouds. I told her “Love them when I’m gone. I’m always gone.” I don’t know why I said that. Still. I’m not going anywhere. I couldn’t if I wanted to and there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be, but I meant it. Somehow. And she heard me. No one cries that hard unless they’re really listening. #covid39 #covid19 #createathome #coronavirus #quarantine #rona #quarantinechronicles #covidchronicles #coronachronicles #quibi #generationc #flattenthecurve #stayathome #welcometowinnetkaheights #oakcliffdallas #atlanta #castleberyhill #theuninformedparent #covidpodcast #applepodcast #spotifypodcast #listen #scriptedpodcast #scifipodcast #scriptnotes #newpodcast #audiostories #blackaudiodrama #afrofuturism #amplifymelanatedvoices #amplifyblackvoices #shareblackstories #tiktok #seanmonterrosa #jamesscurlock #davidmcatee #breonnataylor #dad
COVID39
Randi confronts a stranger she knows. Cast Randi Halle Millien Shane Mark Millien Victor Coyotito Kelly / Mark Millien SFX and Music Contributors SFX Q Tone [Query] Tone 4.wav by patchen of freesound.org Q Tone [Response] Tone 3.wav by patchen of freesound.org Victor Drop thud2.wav by Topschool of freesound.org The L FOLEY - BODY FALL IMPACT.wav by cjosephwalker of freesound.org Music Marcus’ Letter Theme Twilight Zone by MelodicMoe of looperman.com Created by Mark and Halle Millien Cover Art by Halle Millien Written, Directed and Produced by Mark Millien Thank you to everyone that has supported us during this difficult time. Thank you to the protesters risking their bodies and health. Thank you to the medical professionals who are healing bodies or granting them peace. Thanks dad. To Mitch, who I originally wanted to for the role of Victor, I dedicate this to your wellness and freedom. Glossary ECCO: multinational corporation specializing in deep fake and catfish tech. modulator: a voice synthesizer that mimics real voices from high quality samples. #covid39 #covid19 #createathome #coronavirus #quarantine #rona #quarantinechronicles #covidchronicles #coronachronicles #quibi #generationc #flattenthecurve #stayathome #welcometowinnetkaheights #oakcliffdallas #atlanta #castleberyhill #theuninformedparent #covidpodcast #applepodcast #spotifypodcast #listen #scriptedpodcast #scifipodcast #scriptnotes #newpodcast #audiostories #amplifymelanatedvoices #amplifyblackvoices #shareblackstories #tiktok #dad Marcus’ Letter: When your folks sent out the email for this project I was like cool, I dig time capsules. But then I was like, shit, that means I gotta type an email. I know that I could’ve left a video or audio joint, but I felt like with everything going on, I wanted to type something that I could edit and get right. That I could look at and read through, and if I read it out loud it would’ve felt like a performance, and given the moment we’re living through, I wanted to do it justice. And so it took me awhile to get it together and send this out. Your dad’s are my oldest friends, so this is humbling, I take this very personally. You aren’t too young to understand what’s going on. You’re all smart kids. I think about y’all a lot, wondering what the world will be like when you’re my age. What you’ll remember about this time we’re all surviving. I know people who have lost someone recently. Some because of COVID, some just because they were unlucky enough to die during a pandemic. I’ve heard about the awkward Zoom ceremonies. Old people not knowing to mute their feed or unaware that any noise they make centers the video away from whomever is speaking. Rambling. And the typical inappropriate speeches that go on that seem more cringey because you’re wearing a bathrobe while giving it. Today was George Floyd’s memorial. Al Sharpton was there, of course. He beseeched those in earshot, America in this case, to get your knees off our necks. I wonder what America will do with that advice. She’s always been a stubborn kind of kid, convinced of her own nobility despite evidence to the contrary. They set bail for the officers, the other three that were there when Floyd died, at $750,000. Seems like a lot, but the police unions have fairly deep pockets. Police unions. Who knew there were ANY unions left with power, much less ones holding cities hostage. We’ve learned a lot about cops lately. We, US, we always knew but now everyone is getting glimpses. Like how often and to what degree the police will blatantly lie. There was this protester in Buffalo who the police pushed over as they went to close off the area. Pushed him to the ground and left him to spasm and bleed on the pavement. He was a 75 year old white man. They said he tripped and fell when there’s clear video evidence that he was pushed. White people are getting a front row seat to how they manipulate the narrative unfairly, triggering fresh distrust in communities with calcified police resentment. It’s also an opportunity for people with no interest in the truth to tell you how they really feel. It’s...so crazy. These people think we don’t like the police because they stop us from being the criminals we were born to be. Dogwhistles are gone. Now they just say it. Honestly, I’m thankful for it, because it reconciles so many things I never really understood before. How they absentmindedly strip us of our humanity. How the tears of white women super-cede the lives of black women. It’s because they really think we foster a culture of crime that comes to us naturally, genetically. Like we’re the human version of pit bulls, prone to aggression and a physiological yearning for rigid discipline. Some of them know the history and dismiss it. How cops were always the enforcers of legal inequalities. The word systemic scares them so much that they’ve forgotten that Jim Crow refers to a set of laws, not strongly held opinions or cultural norms. Forgotten is my way of being generous. Separate but equal was always a spoonful of sugar in a barrel of poison and they knew it then and they know it now. They’ve always been talented at telling digestible lies designed to hide inconvenient truths. We want to close abortion clinics to protect the health of women. We want to support ID and signature laws to protect the integrity of elections, even though there is zero evidence of widespread voter fraud. Climate change is a hoax. Dogmatic individualism, except when it comes to a woman’s body. Guns rights, unless the cold dead hands holding them are black or brown. And on and on and on. I wonder what stories the right wing will make up about this old man. His age won’t save him, not from their machine. There’s evidence that Travis McMichael, the white man that shot Ahmaud Arbery, called him a fucking nigger, as he lay there dying. Dying because Travis shot him. I wonder how long it will be before they stand before a judge, him, his father, and their neighbor, and claim that they aren’t guilty of anything, that they did nothing wrong and that he was armed with the concrete of the road, like Trayvon’s lawyer argured. Given the tumultuous times, the president decided he wasn’t safe enough behind the walls of the White House or the men and women of the Secret Service or his military attaches and what not, so he built a wall around it, the White House, so that the protesters can’t get him. I wonder if it’ll still be up as some kind of odd monument somewhere when you hear this. Tattooed in black lives matter iconography. I look around at a lot of things and wonder if they’ll be in a museum someday. So much about now seems destined for archives and study and discussion. How did we get here? Are these the last days of the last empire? Will we be mourned? What will be left for the meek to inherit? Ex soldiers are making their way into the protests, inciting violence, a group called Boogaloo. Semi-automatic rifles and Hawaiian shirts. The feds just charged three of them as conspirators to terrorism, while Rand Paul is holding up anti-lynching legislation in the Senate. Reporters are no longer safe. They’ve been shot, beaten, sprayed, arrested, and intimidated. International Journalistic integrity organizations have expressed concerns, like we’re Saudi Arabia or something. Newspapers are having their own reckoning with the moment, the movement. On Thursday the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a headline that said “Buildings Matter Too”. A couple dozen reporters called in sick. The New York Times published an op-ed written by Tom Cotton titled “Send in the Troops.” 800 staff members signed a letter in protest. No one is prepared for this. No one has the answers. Everyone is flailing, but we are still showing up. We are fighting. Right now it doesn’t feel like enough. How did they do it? Turn the other cheek? How did Dr. King have that kind of discipline for so long? But he was wrong about some things too, the preacher and the activist. At least, I don’t think it can work today. If you two are to inherit anything, my suggestion is, abandon meekness. These people are incapable of shame and there’s no longer any such thing as shared truth. The movement then was capable of persuading hearts and minds is dead. Don’t trust these allies, they are fairweather. Bored. Resentful of confinement. Trust yourselves, your family, and that America has not been subtle about her intentions.