Zeitgeist 3/28/26

No Kings 3.0 Edition

So… we went to the thing. And did the thing.

This one seemed calmer, but I think every bit of the determination is still there. It just didn’t feel as hair-on-fire as the ones last year, especially the first one, at least here in Greenfield. I’ve looked at a little bit of the news, and I do see that there are some huge protests in the big northern cities, and our little town managed about the same turn-out as the other two, which is to say large and strong. We’ve filled the common every time.

A picture of Karen and I at No Kings in Greenfield.
photo by Jovonna Van Pelt

That’s me and the BBE. I’m holding the sign I made and Karen is holding one that Jo made. Karen knitted our red hats.

I’ve seen in the news that other protests — Memphis and LA had clashes with the police happen. I don’t know enough details about any of that to say with any conviction what they mean, but even though us protesters are more focused and seemingly spending less of our energy yelling our frustration out at the world, it does seem like things are heating up between protesters and the establishment.

I want to point out the level of criminality of this regime – how they don’t seem to have any compunctions about killing and mass destruction – and suggest that they might bring that level of evil nonsense home to us. Further, I want us to be prepared for it, and to continue our commitment to nonviolence. The police and DHS would like things to get violent, because that will support their wish to start killing Americans on American streets with much greater regularity than they’re managing right now.

Just generally, I see that the world is heading for something cataclysmic. I think you’d have to be blind not to see how various forces are trying to force various issues around the world as well as here at home.

Buckle up.

It’s a few days later, and over the last couple of days, I’ve read that some on the left think these No Kings protests are not doing what we participants expect it to do. I will concede that just showing up in the streets in our millions and millions may not be enough to overthrow this fascist regime.

I never thought that was what peaceful protests would do. As far as I know, the purpose of protest is to signify solidarity and commitment. I think we’re doing that much, at least. Each one of these events gets larger and the energy gets more focused. The thing that brings down the fascists will come out of this movement, that’s what I think. These protests give the opportunity for people to unite, to know that they have power and that power is in sharing it with others. It says to those in power that there is some level of commitment to change.

What we need is leadership that arises to focus this energy and point it towards some achievable goal. What changes the system is concerted, targeted action. I’m hungry for that. I would love to support and participate in such action. In the meantime, though, I’ll go down to Greenfield Common and wave a sign from time to time. Gimme something better to do and I’ll do that.

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Where the Snow Doesn’t Turn Black

It all speaks to some kind of elevated daily existence…

I live in a house in the country. I’ve lived here for 4 years now.

The people are friendly. I have never felt so comfortable to participate in conversations as I do here. The conversational pace is slow enough that my introvert-standard split-second processing pause before I speak doesn’t ace me out of the craic every time, just maybe about half the time. It may seem counterintuitive, since there are so many more things to be a part of in the cities and towns I’ve lived in before, but I feel more a part of things here. I’m still an introvert, and that will never change, but the personal battery doesn’t drain as much in a crowd here.

The light is gorgeous around my house. It’s strange. Is this a byproduct of cleaner air? Perhaps. There is a more crystalline, more buttery aspect to the light, a kind of radiance that I find soothing and wondrous. I feel attached to the environment here. I have a large yard that needs maintenance (which I’m only OK at attending to, it must be said) but it pays dividends in many ways. The many beautiful shades and hues of green, the flowers — some planted by previous residents here, some volunteers/wildflowers, some we’ve planted ourselves — that one can see from every one of the many windows in this house, the purity of the snow as it hugs the ground, never going black, never taking on the smoke and cinders and road filth the stuff always did in the city, the open space… it all speaks to some kind of elevated daily existence.

I call this “motif #1.” I’ve taken this picture many times.

And that’s not to say that life is perfect. Nope, nope, nope. I don’t have a place to go walking here. There are no sidewalks. If I want to go for a walk, I have to either risk the traffic along Main Rd. (which is not insignificant, and some people drive through here at well above the speed limit) or get in the car and drive 5 miles to find a place to walk. Either way, it’s inconvenient, and as a result I’ve put on a fair amount of weight. My life is far too sedentary.

But this is a problem that I can address, and will. And if I can manage that much, I believe my life “out here” will be all the better for the extra effort, and that there may be some unexpected benefits to go along with it. One idea I’ve had to make these benefits manifest is to do some nature journaling. I’ve done it before. It’s been fun and it’s taught me stuff about the natural world and about myself.

So, yeah.

I love it here. In the places I can see from my window and in this beautiful crooked little house, life is sweet.

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The Drums

I hear the sound
And it’s coming this way
It’s not coming for you.
Yet.

They got drums in their chests
They got big sticks
Fuck that they got bullets
And their righteous fascist rage.

And you were just watching
You were just trying to help.
You weren’t mad.

And they’re
Not coming
For you
Yet.

But if you get in their way –
Impeding, as they say –
They won’t mind
Taking you out

As an example.
With their big boy sticks
And their little hands
I mean big dicks.

And they’re shriveled up with fear
And they see it as only fair
That you should be afraid, too
And then they won’t be so afraid.

To shoot you
To round you up
And take you to
The Big Lock Up

When they start coming for you.
Which they’re not doing yet
So stay out of their way
And live another day

or two.

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You may not be aware of this, but people on the internet can be very mean and very stupid at times.

Look through the comments on any social media post, especially one that has controversial or political subject matter, as I’m sure you all have, many times. You will see that everyone seems to be collaborating on making everything just a leeetle bit more awful.

I’m guessing that if we were to be truthful, we would all have to admit that we’ve contributed to that mess. Sometimes flame wars can be fun, but tbh I think there are diminishing returns on this.

And let’s admit this, too – those idiots we’ve been whacking over the head with our most refined rhetorical flourishes? They deserved it! When I called someone a human carbuncle the other morning, I was simply telling the truth. As we say on the internet, “No lies detected.”

Of course, I deleted that comment almost immediately. I realized the fascist moderators would put me in internet jail if I didn’t. I just had to hope that the human carbuncle in question saw my comment before I exxed it out. It’s important to point out the errors of other people’s ways

Also, I kind of like saying “human carbuncle.” It fills me with a mixture of disgust and righteousness. That mixture of disgust and righteousness is one of the many pleasures one might hope to experience while doom scrolling and simultaneously sniping in the comments. A kind of satori, if you will.

Only, not really. I know better. I know I’m spreading poison. But it feels so good! It’s like… power.

The other night, Donald Trump posted 160 zingers in a single evening. As you might surmise from this, he is the most powerful man on the planet, except for Vladimir Putin, who hardly seems to post on social media at all, now that I think about it. At least not from his own account. The exception that proves the rule, I suppose.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I were to be nicer to people online. My fear is that I would disappear. I’m compelled to ask, “If I’m not poking the bear, will the bear remember to poop in the woods?” And how would I know if he did?

Hey, what do you think about liking this post and subscribing to my blog? Might be pretty cool, right? Give it a shot, what the hey. I also really love getting comments. Even on my political posts.