President-Elect Trump recently announced the creation of the External Revenue Service, a government agency which will collect tariffs, duties, and other revenue due from other countries. I agree with DC Draino; I like this idea. The U.S. government is supposed to serve the American people, not take money from them. If the government needs revenue, it’s more fair and just to get that revenue from foreign countries that make money through trade with the U.S., rather than by obtaining revenue in a way that directly harms American people (e.g. income tax).
I recently came across a social media post that said the following:
“If you plan to make content on the distinctions between ODD and PDA* but gloss over the racial disparities and intersectional factors, just don’t.”
My response: Excuse me? Who the heck are you to tell me what type of content I can and cannot make?
The author of the post describes themselves as black, “moderate support needs,” and “agender and queer.” Perhaps belonging to demographic categories that qualify them as more “oppressed” than others gives this person a sense of moral superiority. Perhaps their membership in these socially favored demographic categories makes this person feel that they are in a position to determine what others are and are not allowed to do.
Guess what? If someone wishes to make content about the distinctions between ODD and PDA without going into the alleged racial disparities and intersectional factors, they have every right to do so. As a white, high-functioning, asexual autistic person, I have the right to voice my opinion just as much as you do. You have no right to tell other people what type of content they can and cannot make.
* ODD is the abbreviation for “oppositional defiant disorder,” and PDA is the abbreviation for “pathological demand avoidance,” two mental health conditions that share some similarities.
A commenter on this post wrote, “Now is time to investigate this judge for his political prosecution. And all others involved in this lawless act.” A sentiment with which I completely agree.
The most recent issue of Imprimis, the publication by Hillsdale College, is a good one. In it, Larry P. Arnn, the president of Hillsdale College, explains the problems caused by the administrative state or bureaucratic state. Here is an excerpt:
“The recent election is the product of a decades-long struggle in American politics that has intensified since 2016. The election produced a victory for the man who caused the intensification, Donald Trump. He caused it by convincing a people, jaded from broken promises, that he would ‘drain the swamp.’ He also convinced the people who inhabit the swamp, and they have scorched the earth to stop him. He has been canceled, derided, slandered, libeled, investigated, searched, impeached, arrested, prosecuted, tried, convicted, shot, and yet…reelected!“
(emphasis added)
In another spot-on passage, Arnn describes the administrative state as follows:
“It vaunts expertise and professionalism over politics and the principle of representation. Over time it has become unable to hide its contempt for American citizens. Its leaders have called them deplorables and worse. It seeks to take children from their parents and prosecutes parents if they complain. It seeks to restrict speech to assertions that enjoy its sanction.”
My entire body was vibrating with tension, frustration, and anger. My chest was tight, a lump was forming in my throat, and tears were forming in my eyes. I was enveloped by an omnipresent sense of time pressure. I felt as if I was being batted around like a ping pong ball, and my head was spinning. There was nowhere to pull over, to regroup, to get myself situated. Inundated with an endless stream of conflicting, contradictory instructions and demands, my brain felt like it was overflowing. “I am so stressed,” I muttered under my breath again and again, heaving one huge sigh after another, but no amount of deep breaths could reduce the level of stress that I felt.
Unfortunately, this is what both my December 23 (Christmas Eve Eve) and December 25 (Christmas) consisted of.
On the 23rd, the chaos was caused by a workday with lots of employees on duty, but not a lot of customers, causing the employees to seemingly spend the entire shift in the break room, talking loudly, causing commotion, and clustering around the free cookies that the boss had brought in for us. (Normally I would be overjoyed at the presence of free cookies, or any type of free food for that matter, but on that occasion the cookies resulted in nothing but chaos, and I didn’t even get to properly look at them and choose which kind to take, because there were so many people constantly crowding around them.)
On Christmas Day, the chaos was caused by a visit to my grandmother at her assisted living place, during which I decided to use the public bathroom down the hall, both because I prefer public bathrooms to those in people’s homes, and because I wanted a chance to get up and walk around. Upon returning, my grandmother and dad looked up expectantly at me, as if I had just beamed down from Mars, and proceeded to interrogate me about where I had gone and why. This is something that if I hadn’t been feeling tired and frustrated to begin with, may have made me only mildly annoyed, but on this occasion it made me feel self-conscious, embarrassed, and humiliated. I was, alas, tired and frustrated because the visit had already lasted longer than I was expecting, and I was well behind schedule on the various tasks I wanted to get done that day.
That being said, I had good days on December 24 (Christmas Eve) and December 26. Overall, I was able to do a variety of festive activities that I enjoyed throughout the season.
On Christmas Eve, the store where I work closed early, so my shift was moved up earlier in the day. Most of my co-workers had the day off, creating a low-key vibe that stood in sharp contrast to the day before. There were a few free snacks in the break room, and I was actually able to enjoy them because there was no chaotic commotion this time. And after work, I had dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby.
On Christmas Day, despite the bathroom snafu, I was happy with the gifts that I got. These included an American Girl doll named Summer McKinny, a tiny Napoleon and his horse Marengo, a tiny Queen Elizabeth II with her corgis, and a tiny Confederate soldier with his dog. (Can you see a theme developing here? Summer did not come with a pet, but she is an animal lover, and she has a dog-shaped purse, which you can kind of see in the picture.)
The day after Christmas, I had a relaxing day working on my hobbies. I also visited this house with a ridiculous amount of Christmas lights in Saugus, Massachusetts.
(more photos of the house and neighboring ones can be found here)
A few other things that I did over the course of the holiday season included taking advantage of Cyber Monday sales to gift my dolls with a plethora of new outfits:
Visiting Christopher Columbus, getting a coffee at Caffe Dello Sport, and strolling through the North End:
The little gnome, ornaments, teddy bear, and Gadsden flag wind sock are all from Confederate Shop. This is a wonderful, family-owned business that I highly recommend to anyone who loves Confederate stuff like I do.
Visiting my town’s Christmas tree at the pond near my house:
Baking a chocolate peppermint loaf cake:
By far the best part of my holiday season was decorating the statues – Robert E. Lee, Nathan Bedford Forrest, and Stonewall Jackson. I got a Christmas tree for them, put it up, and strung it with lights. I put festive bells around their necks (a bow for Nathan, because he’s the only one whose neck is skinny enough to tie the bow around) and Santa hats on their heads! My dad had the idea of piling pine boughs at their feet for an added festive touch. There are no words that can capture the warm and fuzzy feeling that filled my soul upon seeing them.
Visiting the little generals every night upon getting home from work brought joy to my heart. Seeing them with their adorable Santa hats, smelling the piney scent of the tree and boughs, and watching the colorful lights twinkle, truly made me feel the spirit of Christmas.
Four years ago today, after spending months lauding, worshipping, and deifying the perpetrators of riots in which the people I love were murdered, society decided to erupt in an orgy of vicious condemnation of a group of people like me who had the audacity to actually hold a protest expressing our views.
For the entire late spring and summer of 2020, in nearly every city and state, intolerant bullies held violent and hateful demonstrations during which they demanded that members of the majority never again have to encounter a person who is different from the norm, that people like me be obliterated from existence, that the only perspective acknowledged be their own, that all voices other than theirs be silenced. My “friends” responded to this by unanimously flooding social media with mindless expressions of solidarity with the bullies. Politicians responded by effusively praising the bullies, groveling at their feet, and falling all over each other in their eagerness to fulfill the bullies’ demands. Our country’s public art, public spaces, place names, and calendars were redone to ensure that people like me could no longer feel included, to erase every possible trace of non-majority perspectives, stories, and viewpoints.
On January 6, 2021, people like me protested. We were hurt and angry at the way that we had been treated, as anyone with even half a brain would be in our situation. After being subjected to months of the cruelest and most appalling treatment imaginable, finally we fought back. Our hurt and anger were 100% justified, as were all of our actions. My “friends” responded to this by expressing their disgust and complaining that it made them sick to their stomachs to see people like me standing up for ourselves and expressing our views. The pro-bullying activists who up until that point had been masquerading as the news media responded by viciously attacking and condemning us in the harshest terms imaginable. Live on air, the disgraceful excuses for human beings who called themselves political commentators called us idiots, morons, “traitors,” white supremacists, and worse.
Four years ago today, one of the people like me who participated in the protest, Ashli Babbitt, was murdered. And society responded not by criticizing the person who murdered her, but by condemning and ridiculing her for having participated in the protest in the first place. Society reacted by blaming her for her own murder.
Today, Donald Trump will be certified as president. Nothing can bring Ashli Babbitt back, but this day gives me a small bit of satisfaction. Nothing can truly undo the atrocity that was perpetrated against people like me four years ago, but this day does undo it a little bit. This day gives me, and all people like me, a victory. Because what the participants in the protest were trying to achieve four years ago, has actually happened. Donald Trump is going to be president. Today, people like me have won. And the mindless and intolerant society that decided to sadistically attack, condemn, shame, insult, and murder us, merely for expressing views that are different from those of the majority, lost.
To say that it serves them right, would be an understatement.
