Stop the King of Lies and Rip-offs from Being the King of US: What Can I Do? Is Not an Assumption of Hopelessness but A Driver of Reflection and Action

This morning, the sky was partly cloudy, after one of the wettest springs in history, with a grey haze from Canadian fires. Still, a cardinal and a vireo were singing. Outside my office, the rhododendron flowers had turned brown and were falling off the bush, but the roses were very alive with a deep red color.

 

But in our human realm, news reports set a very threatening tone to the day. This began at a news conference earlier in the week, when Senator Alex Padilla, Democrat from California, tried to ask a question of DT’s Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem. As he tried to take a step forward to be heard, identifying himself as a US Senator (the ranking member of the Judiciary Committee on Immigration), Noem’s security detail stopped him, shoved him to the ground, where he was handcuffed and forcibly taken from the room.

 

Later, the Senator explained he had repeatedly asked DHS for information on their increasingly extreme actions against immigrants but had not received answers. He said, “If this is how this administration… the DHS responds to a senator with a question, you can only imagine what they’re doing to farm workers, to cooks, to day laborers, throughout the LA community and throughout California and throughout the country.”

 

Since June 6, mostly nonviolent protests continued in LA, after having been met not only with police but soldiers, National Guard troops sent in by DT against the explicit direction of California Governor Newsom. This was an even more unrestrained repeat of DT’s militarized response in 2020  to protests against the killing of George Floyd. And, as in 2020, the possibly illegal deployment of troops only served to inflame the situation further.

 

And on the morning of Saturday, June 14th, in their Minnesota home, Melissa Hortman, a Democratic state representative and her husband were assassinated, in a politically targeted killing. The assailant also shot a second Democratic lawmaker and his wife multiple times, but they both thankfully remain alive as of now.  When DT was asked by a reporter if he would call Minnesota Governor Walz, he responded with more spite than any semblance of truly caring. “Well, it’s a terrible thing. I think he’s a terrible governor,” ABC News reported Trump said. “I think he’s a grossly incompetent person. But I may, I may call him, I may call other people too.” As of Sunday, he hadn’t called the Governor.

 

Starting Saturday morning, a “Celebration” in Washington D.C., with a military parade in the evening, honoring the 250th anniversary of the US Army⎼ and the birthday of the King of Lies. But across 200 cities covering most of the country, a NO KINGS demonstration at 1:00. Also later in the day, a Gay Pride event and a Juneteenth remembrance.

 

The events presented a dramatic contrast. The military parade celebrated not only the courage and sacrifice of soldiers, but the ego and self-centeredness of DT. In anticipation and messaging, it was frightening; but it turned out to be a sad and not well attended event.

 

The NO KINGS protests were attended by millions. They were both serious and fun, concerned for the rights and future for all of us⎼ compassionate yet defiant of DT’s attempts to destroy democracy, to mistreat and remove immigrants of color, and undermine any government agencies and policies that protect the well-being of the mass of citizens, like healthcare, Social Security, SNAP, and education.

 

The protests were peaceful yet energizing.

 

*To tread the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

When Taking a Breath Feels Like Writing a Poem: What We Ignore Grows Mythical in Size

These days, breathing-in seems to be filled with a deep dread, a darkness, as if I’m about to open a door no one wants to open but maybe must. It’s a door I rationally know I share with millions of others, but don’t always feel. And the more I hesitate about opening it, the more difficult it is to even look at it. What we ignore becomes mythical in size.

 

I also dread to verbalize this, but I wonder if sleep disruption has become a national epidemic. The anxiety levels in this country are skyrocketing. And so many people have shared with me they’re having difficulty sleeping. So many have shared a sense of mourning, not only for neighbors who have been deported or lost their jobs, but mourning for the loss of an expectation of justice, fairness, due process. The world. Their future. Humanity. So many of us are suffering from moral injury or trauma.

 

Maybe you know the work of primatologist Frans de Waal, who with Sarah Brosnan did experiments with capuchin monkeys showing these primates have a deep sense of and desire for what is fair. When two capuchins performed a simple task, and one was rewarded with a less preferred, less sweet reward than the other, they then refused to continue to participate. They noticed and didn’t like any inequity in the treatment of others. It wasn’t all about competition and winning but noticing and caring about fairness.

 

In some ways, I weirdly realize the dread I had felt back in November and December 2024 might have lessened. DT is scary, a clown in many ways and frighteningly so, frighteningly uncaring of anyone other than himself and his power-hungry cohorts, a threat to everything and everyone I hold dear. Too many others have lost their livelihood, left the country or been deported or died, yet I‘m still able to speak out. Or maybe I’ve just become better at closing certain doors.

 

Or maybe I had just expected there would no longer be friendship, joy, love once DT was in office. No longer be any surprisingly beautiful moments. And yet these persist, some very simple. This afternoon for example, I started boiling water for tea. I then sat down to wait and so many thoughts went through my mind. It was like my mind had become a city center, with thoughts and images racing along the sidewalks and roads. And not just thoughts but inner compulsions to do something other than sit, like recording thoughts in my journal, or refinishing the window ledge above the sink, doing something “useful.”

 

But instead, I just watched and listened to the steam rising from the teapot, and it was enough. I noticed the song of water boiling was a complex song, with a deep quiet living in its core. Doing “nothing” suddenly felt so beautiful. And outside the house, a cardinal was singing. Maybe it was responding to the song of boiling tea water? Maybe I’ve stopped holding my breath and breathing-out amazed me.

 

It feels almost taboo to talk of something like this, watching and listening to water boiling when so many lives, the ecosystems of the world, and the continuation of democracy are at stake. But the freedom to live and share our moments, to let them affirm our existence, is a crucial element of human life.

 

I woke up about 1:00 am last night….

 

*To read the entire article, please go to The Good Men Project.