The above is from a 1922 anthology of essays against prohibition titled Nonsenseorship, but it sort of works in an opposite way today: we need to usher in an age of prohibition against undemocratic power grabs. Just say NO.
This is Emily Writes Back, for brilliant people, by Emily Sanders Hopkins.
My therapist reminded me yesterday that you have to DO something when you want to change the way you feel. Also whenever you want to change your circumstances. Duh. And it can be small things, but you have to take a step (with your actual legs) in the right direction.
She further refined the instructions (she is the perfect therapist for me): When you feel bad, you should do the opposite of what you feel like doing. If you feel like curling into a ball and hiding in the basement, go out and run for Congress by knocking on a thousand doors, or at least go outside for goodness sake.
When you feel like screaming in someone’s face, I guess you should speak sweetly and softly to yourself instead. When you feel like giving up on America in despair, celebrate its best parts and fight the villains like hell.
The above is a pep talk to myself.
But last night, taking her advice, I made a lovely dinner of swordfish steaks. This was the first time I’ve even considered being anywhere near a swordfish steak since reading something gross about giant swordfish worms in Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. I wasn’t hungry. I never feel like cooking, now that I’m on this appetite-suppressing med and my daughter is almost never home and she’s about to go away to college.
There was a vein of red blood running down the center of the steak and I wondered if that was a Kitchen Confidential worm. I googled it and found that it was simply part of the fish anatomy. The google answer even pointed out how full of nutrients the red part is. That led me to a reflection: If you’re already willing to eat the body of a fish, what’s the big deal about eating the body of a sea worm? But of course I was very happy not to.
I paired the swordfish steaks (seared in a skillet and then baked with butter, garlic, thyme, lemon, and white wine) with the skinniest asparagus and little baby potatoes boiled and then mixed with melted butter, salt and pepper, and fresh dill.
Mary’s friend Valentina—a sprite with the lightest brown eyes you’ve ever seen and a face like if Benedict Cumberbatch (Bertrand Cumbersome) were a beautiful young woman—was over and we ate out on the back porch, which looks out onto our little garden and the giant basswood tree that looms over our house as the most perfect dark and ivy covered reminder of the beauty and fragility of life (and the inevitability of death if it’s ever struck by lightning).
Then afterwards, we had some friends over for fruit and ice cream. At the end of the night, we got on the computer together with our friends and reserved a $22/night campsite on bluffs overlooking Lake Ontario, so now we have something fun to look forward to, regardless of how many high-needs children are kicked off their Medicaid lifeline.
A nice night. A wonderful night. Because I did some right things. Duh.
I guess the right things to do about this coup of our democracy is to flood the streets. My friend who is an historian said that whenever eight percent of a nation’s populace takes to the streets to protest, the government falls. Eight percent of 340 million is 27 million, meaning we could get there with just all the concerned and awake citizens of Baltimore, Washington, New York, Austin, San Francisco, Davis, Miami, Atlanta, and Chicago showing out on a single day.
Isn’t it funny that the only thing in the way of saving democracy is the hassle of getting everyone coordinated? My kingdom for a shared Outlook calendar. Or a leader with a big platform who is willing to simply announce the day and give clear instructions:
On July 4, 2025, starting at 9 a.m. and continuing until just before sundown, everyone gather at your town or city’s power center/downtown, banking district:
Chant these phrases all day:
“Democracy Now! Democracy Now! Democracy Now!
Fair Taxes Now! Fair Taxes Now!
Peace Now! Peace Now!
Diplomacy Now!
Due Process Now!
Civility Now!
Logic Now!
Truth Now!”
In the meantime, I’m calling Republican representatives today. I don’t feel like it at all. But sometimes you have to do the opposite of what you feel like doing.
The opposite of eating watermelon on a hammock is talking on the phone to dumb Republican staffers fresh out of SMU and Vanderbilt. The opposite of swimming in a deep, clear waterhole on a river with all your cousins and friends is working on a road crew to repaint yellow lines on an interstate highway in Alabama.
Damn.... You're right of course...!!!
Impressed as hell with your swordfish dinner!!!!!
Just the Republicans in the House: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/members/current#current_role_type=2¤t_role_party=Republican