Well, if ever there were a time to dust off the Declaration and give it a good, hard squint, it’s now. And I do declare, you have taken a mighty fine stab at it—though if Jefferson were alive to see what we’re dealing with, I suspect he’d have set his quill on fire and started over with a lot more cursing.
You’re right, we aren’t quite at the part where we’re loading up the muskets and declaring a full revolution—though Lord knows, we’re getting mighty familiar with the feeling of being ruled by a mad king. The offenses, the arrogance, the utter disdain for decency—it all rings a little too familiar, like an old song sung off-key. But the difference, I suppose, is that King George never had a cheering section waving flags with his face on ‘em, believing every falsehood like it was gospel.
What you’ve done here is what the best minds of every desperate age have done—taken the high and mighty words of history and dragged them, kicking and screaming, into the present. And you’re right: we’re not yet at the point of forming our own armies (though I suspect if one did materialize, it’d be made up of schoolteachers, librarians, and women who’ve had just about enough). But what we are at the precipice of is something just as critical—a reckoning.
A reckoning for those who still believe governance requires decency. A reckoning for those of us who have spent years politely reminding, warning, and pleading while watching the other side treat our democracy like a child’s toy they mean to break just for the fun of it. A reckoning for the fact that, while we are exhausted, history does not grant breaks to those who are tired of fighting for what is right.
So while the words of the Founders may feel melodramatic in today’s context, the truth behind them remains as sharp as ever: a government that sneers at its people, that hoards power for the few, that mocks the very idea of justice, is a government unworthy of our consent. The only question left is whether we—the sane and kind—are willing to make enough noise to be heard over the din of the mad and cruel.
And if we must gather in the public square to remind them, then by God, let’s make sure they can hear us all the way to Mar-a-Lago.
Yours in the fight,
A Woman Who’s Had Just About Enough of This Foolishness
Well said, Ms Wry, my sister. And thank you! OK, let’s do this. Have you decided WHERE you’re going to put your body exactly? I can’t help wish there were someone very prominent instructing us to be outside the White House gates at 4:30 p.m. tomorrow or something. But I can’t let that babyish wish keep me home. My husband suggested we all walk to Washington, but that seems unnecessarily slow and dangerous. I am thinking public meetings at which Republican elected representatives will be speaking. Thoughts?
Well now, ain’t it just like a woman to roll up her sleeves and get to planning while the menfolk are out here suggesting we walk to Washington like we’ve got the time and the ankles for that kind of foolishness? Admirable spirit, but unless we’re planning to reenact Grapes of Wrath on the way, I’d say we go for something a tad more efficient.
Public meetings where Republican officials are flapping their gums? Now that’s an idea with some teeth. Nothing unsettles a politician quite like an informed woman with a pointed question and a voice that carries. Showing up in numbers where they least expect us—where they can’t hide behind teleprompters and carefully curated soundbites—that’s where the real work begins.
One thing history has taught us, it’s that not every battle is fought on the same field—but that don’t mean it ain’t part of the same war. If I can’t plant my boots at the White House gates, then I’ll plant my words where they’ll sprout just as loud—right in the heart of my own community and across the great, wild plains of the internet.
Public meetings, local gatherings, city halls—wherever they stand to talk, we stand to remind them who they work for. And as for social media, well, never underestimate the power of a well-aimed truth fired into the digital abyss. A message doesn’t need a microphone if enough people are willing to carry it.
So wherever you are, wherever I am, and wherever every soul who still gives a damn finds themselves—let’s make sure we’re making noise. Loudly, publicly, and with all the wit and fire our foremothers would expect of us.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
My Dear Sister in Sanity,
Well, if ever there were a time to dust off the Declaration and give it a good, hard squint, it’s now. And I do declare, you have taken a mighty fine stab at it—though if Jefferson were alive to see what we’re dealing with, I suspect he’d have set his quill on fire and started over with a lot more cursing.
You’re right, we aren’t quite at the part where we’re loading up the muskets and declaring a full revolution—though Lord knows, we’re getting mighty familiar with the feeling of being ruled by a mad king. The offenses, the arrogance, the utter disdain for decency—it all rings a little too familiar, like an old song sung off-key. But the difference, I suppose, is that King George never had a cheering section waving flags with his face on ‘em, believing every falsehood like it was gospel.
What you’ve done here is what the best minds of every desperate age have done—taken the high and mighty words of history and dragged them, kicking and screaming, into the present. And you’re right: we’re not yet at the point of forming our own armies (though I suspect if one did materialize, it’d be made up of schoolteachers, librarians, and women who’ve had just about enough). But what we are at the precipice of is something just as critical—a reckoning.
A reckoning for those who still believe governance requires decency. A reckoning for those of us who have spent years politely reminding, warning, and pleading while watching the other side treat our democracy like a child’s toy they mean to break just for the fun of it. A reckoning for the fact that, while we are exhausted, history does not grant breaks to those who are tired of fighting for what is right.
So while the words of the Founders may feel melodramatic in today’s context, the truth behind them remains as sharp as ever: a government that sneers at its people, that hoards power for the few, that mocks the very idea of justice, is a government unworthy of our consent. The only question left is whether we—the sane and kind—are willing to make enough noise to be heard over the din of the mad and cruel.
And if we must gather in the public square to remind them, then by God, let’s make sure they can hear us all the way to Mar-a-Lago.
Yours in the fight,
A Woman Who’s Had Just About Enough of This Foolishness
Well said, Ms Wry, my sister. And thank you! OK, let’s do this. Have you decided WHERE you’re going to put your body exactly? I can’t help wish there were someone very prominent instructing us to be outside the White House gates at 4:30 p.m. tomorrow or something. But I can’t let that babyish wish keep me home. My husband suggested we all walk to Washington, but that seems unnecessarily slow and dangerous. I am thinking public meetings at which Republican elected representatives will be speaking. Thoughts?
Count me in!
My Dearest Sister in Sanity,
Well now, ain’t it just like a woman to roll up her sleeves and get to planning while the menfolk are out here suggesting we walk to Washington like we’ve got the time and the ankles for that kind of foolishness? Admirable spirit, but unless we’re planning to reenact Grapes of Wrath on the way, I’d say we go for something a tad more efficient.
Public meetings where Republican officials are flapping their gums? Now that’s an idea with some teeth. Nothing unsettles a politician quite like an informed woman with a pointed question and a voice that carries. Showing up in numbers where they least expect us—where they can’t hide behind teleprompters and carefully curated soundbites—that’s where the real work begins.
One thing history has taught us, it’s that not every battle is fought on the same field—but that don’t mean it ain’t part of the same war. If I can’t plant my boots at the White House gates, then I’ll plant my words where they’ll sprout just as loud—right in the heart of my own community and across the great, wild plains of the internet.
Public meetings, local gatherings, city halls—wherever they stand to talk, we stand to remind them who they work for. And as for social media, well, never underestimate the power of a well-aimed truth fired into the digital abyss. A message doesn’t need a microphone if enough people are willing to carry it.
So wherever you are, wherever I am, and wherever every soul who still gives a damn finds themselves—let’s make sure we’re making noise. Loudly, publicly, and with all the wit and fire our foremothers would expect of us.
Yours in defiance and determination,
Ms. Wry