Yes — and I think that’s part of the danger. Systems don’t act on their own; they are carried out by people whose humanity is often diminished, outsourced, or rationalized away in the process.
The pattern I’m interested in is how that erosion becomes normalized — until harm feels procedural rather than personal.
I also wanted to tell you that there are so many swoon worthy, quotable lines in this piece, it's hard to point to the ones that have the most impact on me. However, the words, "quieter than outrage, heavier than hope", linger with me, as with, "resistance doesn't always announce itself. Sometimes it simply refuses to disappear". That is the perfect set up for Lucy Burns' story. I am always affected deeply by your writing, both by form and content. Thank you.
Thanks for putting words to this, precisely and elegantly. When people say, "This is so bizarre", I wonder where they have been living. I live in a privileged reality bubble but peek out from time to time and thus understand that, for people of color and other oppressed people, life in the good ole USA has always been unjust and dangerous. And I'm also over everyone being hypnotized by the Orange Beast. Yes, scary as fuck and insane as 47 is, he couldn't do any of the harm without legions of support. We need to get over thinking the issue is about red or blue hats and pay attention to how the system, with increasing velocity and efficiency, is raping, pillaging the earth and how all her kin are in danger. The question of how they convince legions to ignore or go along with their own destruction is the question isn't it? Thanks for taking this on. May you thrive in all ways always.
Thank you — and yes, I think that sense of “bizarre” often reflects distance from histories some people have never had the luxury to forget.
I’m trying to look past individual figures and toward the systems that make this kind of harm feel ordinary and efficient. That question of how people are brought along with it — or learn to live with it — feels like the real work.
Can we talk about the State as made up of people whose humanity has also been consumed? Humans do this to other humans.
Yes — and I think that’s part of the danger. Systems don’t act on their own; they are carried out by people whose humanity is often diminished, outsourced, or rationalized away in the process.
The pattern I’m interested in is how that erosion becomes normalized — until harm feels procedural rather than personal.
I also wanted to tell you that there are so many swoon worthy, quotable lines in this piece, it's hard to point to the ones that have the most impact on me. However, the words, "quieter than outrage, heavier than hope", linger with me, as with, "resistance doesn't always announce itself. Sometimes it simply refuses to disappear". That is the perfect set up for Lucy Burns' story. I am always affected deeply by your writing, both by form and content. Thank you.
Thank you for reading so closely. I’m especially glad those lines stayed with you — they’re doing the quiet work I hoped they would.
Lucy Burns belongs in that lineage of resistance that refuses disappearance. I appreciate you naming that.
Thanks for putting words to this, precisely and elegantly. When people say, "This is so bizarre", I wonder where they have been living. I live in a privileged reality bubble but peek out from time to time and thus understand that, for people of color and other oppressed people, life in the good ole USA has always been unjust and dangerous. And I'm also over everyone being hypnotized by the Orange Beast. Yes, scary as fuck and insane as 47 is, he couldn't do any of the harm without legions of support. We need to get over thinking the issue is about red or blue hats and pay attention to how the system, with increasing velocity and efficiency, is raping, pillaging the earth and how all her kin are in danger. The question of how they convince legions to ignore or go along with their own destruction is the question isn't it? Thanks for taking this on. May you thrive in all ways always.
Thank you — and yes, I think that sense of “bizarre” often reflects distance from histories some people have never had the luxury to forget.
I’m trying to look past individual figures and toward the systems that make this kind of harm feel ordinary and efficient. That question of how people are brought along with it — or learn to live with it — feels like the real work.