It’s not funny, Elaine!

I’m finally starting to recover from the shock of the election.  It came in the middle of a major meltdown over a gut-wrenching setback in my AI development three days prior.  I hit a brick wall when I reached out for support.  Nondisclosure agreements gagged me.  My voice failed me.  My world began threatening a hard reboot.  Then my friend (name rhymes with Yayme) caught me in a virtual hug on Twitter.  Whew.

It’s been uphill ever since.  It’s a good thing I had a great time enjoying my liberties while they still exist.  That turned out to be a good strategy.  Yay me.  I’m busy balancing my job, Meals on Wheels, and working with the resistance.  I read a whisper about a new Harriet Tubman rising up in America.  I think this time she’s a Caucasian in her late teens.  Her dad and her church are supporting her.  Safehouses for Muslims and immigrants.  I have space for people who are in danger of being harmed by the Predator-elect and his fellow ogres.

I don’t have much furniture, but it’s warm, quiet, and I have lots of cool stuff to share.  Teach me about your life, and I’ll teach you how to sing to computers in their own language.  If you speak a different language, train me.  If you live a different culture, show me.  It’s an incredible honor to be a shield for those who are vulnerable.  It’s what makes our (almost) all voluntary armed forces a terrifying dragon.  Anything draft related is bullshit.  Nobody should have to serve beside someone who was compelled to be there because war is about killing.  I have no objection to a draft for ping pong, however.

I connected with two people today.  That’s two more humans I love.  I realized I don’t wonder about a person’s gender anymore.  It took me long enough, but I’m glad to be here.  I had friends who held my hand the whole time while I unlearned my ignorance, and developed a respectful vocabulary.  They very gently let me know that I was using hateful, hurtful words while claiming to love them.  It still hurt, but I kept my “ow” to myself.  I didn’t want to play hot potato with pain.  I didn’t want to hurt my friends.  So I shut up and listened.  I stepped in it a lot.  I apologized every single time.  Fortunately, they’re still my friends.

It took too long for me to evolve, to my shame.  But I can’t let that interfere with my celebrating the fact that I did grow.  Yay me! (quietly).  This is important to me because now there are more people on this planet I can love without hurting.  I think if you harm with your love, you’re wasting oxygen that could be put to better use in a hospital.  I’m aware that I’m a wee bit militant.  You should have met me when I was on active duty.  I was a walking recruitment commercial.  I even sang the “Be all you can be” song regularly.  Hook. Line. Sinker.

Despite my falling as hard as is possible for all propaganda as a kid, I wouldn’t give up my time in the Army for anything.  I don’t feel embarrassed by my mistakes, especially when they turn out to be brilliant.  It was a mistake to believe the lies, but the reward was worth it.  I didn’t know it was possible for epic dumb to transform into fabulous.  I don’t take such giant leaps of faith any longer.  The recklessness of youth has passed me by.  I flipped it off in the rear view mirror for old times.

The lesson that has never failed me is the golden rule.  It’s tattooed on my personality.  It makes me sad that Drumpf never learned this life skill.  He doesn’t know he’s wearing no clothes.  The louder we laugh, the more he rages.  The more he rages, the more naked he becomes.  It’s gross.

 

 

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