Democratic Experiment

Dear you,

A hell of a time to be an American.  I identify with this: "Dozens of monkeys escape from US research lab." Run, babies, run. They are used for experimentation.  We are now  subject to experimentation too. Our mad-scientist-captor is a big MAGA blob called the Trump regime 2.0.  Our Republic has always been an experiment in democracy. Now, the majority of us who voted in the recent presidential election decided that the experiment needs tweaking, it needs a strong man and a team of oligarchs to straighten things out. Like those beautiful monkeys imprisoned and used for experiments, acceptable losses for someone's twisted idea of a greater good, we too should run. Only a week after Trump's win, we are informed of the following:

Elon Musk and Vivek W. will handle the economy, the structure of governance, through a brand new thing called the department of economic efficiency. My oh my.  Musk. We know his intentions. Musk’s Twitter/X is the Blueprint for a MAGA Government. Fire everyone. Turn it into a personal political weapon. Let chaos reign. Don't get me started on their love of cryptocurrency and what that will mean for the US dollar and banking.

Matt Gaetz is Trump's nominee for Attorney General. Gee, since the new GOP controlled senate will allow recess appointments and wouldn't object even if Matt had to endure a confirmation process, I think we know what this means.  He is loathed by so many in the GOP, but hey, who cares?  What the new autocrat says goes.  They will turn their heads and kiss the ring.  This is Trump's test for the GOP senate: stand with me no matter how absurd my choices are.  Disagree? You will pay. 

Mike Huckabee is the ambassador to Israel. Mike, the guy who thinks Palestine should not exist.  The far right Christian dude who offers lip service to Netanyahu because he sees Israel as a part of the ultimate "second coming" plan. The great nation of Israel is just a useful tool, part of Mike's dream narrative of the return of his wildly fictional savior. Meanwhile, the starving children in Gaza . . . 

I refuse to even mention the names of the other barbarians who will now be in charge of national security, defense, and for the love of god, that man who will choreograph the "mass deportation" horrors to come.  They shall remain nameless.

America just voted itself into a cage of fear, inhumanity, and devolution - backwards and downwards we go. Many, millions of us, are not having it.  We reject the cage. 

Tennessee Williams:  A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages.

Never, never, never give up! Shake the bars. And if necessary, run baby run.

Love,

Joyce

The Morning After

 Dear you,

So, my America has voted to elect a convicted felon for President. More than that, the felon is going to (try to) erase many, so many, democratic institutions we have long fought to build.  Well, there is that. And then there is also this:

Competing images of the new head of oligarchy-style USA:  What does this mean?  It is so simple, so obvious, so easy to diagnose.  The photo of our next POTUS (big orange Donald to the right of Harris) on solid news sites like CNN, CBS, or MSNBC depict this:

While on FOX, his acolytes depict him as something like this:

Ah, the grinning fool (which he is, but add dangerous to that description) versus the "strong man" scowling at his liberty loving enemies.

A picture is worth more than a thousand words.

Trump won America in this election. Shocking? Not really.  But the millions of us who still love what we are meant to be woke up this day sad but resilient.  Tomorrow is another day.  And we, millions of us, know the grinning fool who poses as strong man does not wish us well.  He is our next president, a poser. With power. He is indeed the scowling dude who is also a grinning, deeply dangerous fool.  Sleep well, and get ready for what comes. 

Here we go. Carry on! 

Love,

Joyce 

The situation . . .

 Sit·u·a·tion:  a set of circumstances in which one finds oneself; a state of affairs.

Dear you,

My oh my, we are all in perplexing situations.  Whatever they may be, the king of stoicism suggests the following:

Marcus Aurelius:  "It stares you in the face.  No role is so well suited to philosophy as the one you happen to be in right now."

What is my current role? A few: citizen, annoyed/amused Florida condo owner, feminist-lioness, cat-lady, exercise lover, and eternal student. Suited philosophies? Aurelian stoicism (face it), Aristotelian "push" (just do it), Epicurus (eat, drink and be merry because . . . you know the rest).

All these thinkers, if sitting on a what-should-Joyce-do panel, might suggest the following: If an old, orange man says he will be my 'daddy' whether I like it or not, stay calm, tell him to fuck off, and have a cocktail.  If a random condo "manager" lies and mucks things up at my Villas, stay calm, tell him to fuck off, and have a cocktail. If a sad local is ranting about how women are wrecking the country by being all "free", stay calm, tell him to fuck off, and have a cocktail. If someone hustling for money suggests you sign on to a shady contract (be it a phone deal, condo agreement, or ubiquitous streaming forever-binding document), stay calm, tell her/him to fuck off, and have a cocktail.

You know, each of those things happened to me today already.  If I acted as advised, I would have exceeded my daily F-bomb limit and be ripping-tipsy.  And it's only 4 P.M.  But at least I would be very, very calm.

Perhaps I'll cut the "fuck-offs" and just elegantly face "it" (whatever the situation is), do something productive, and eat, drink, and be merry.  I am NOT cutting the cocktails.

What is your role, dear you, what are your philosophies?  Good luck, in any and all situations.  Especially the ones we are in today. Keep calm and carry on.

Love,

Joyce

Will versus Worry

Dear you,

I don't know the source of this quotation, but I love it and whoever said it:  "The beauty of life is in denying mortality, not arranging your life around it."

Thank you. Truth! The trick is striking a wise balance and asking myself "am I just procrastinating and avoiding realities I must face or am I seeing things clearly enough to be sensibly fearless?"  After all, worrying about daily glitches and that end-of-life thing is pointless.  I'm all in for delusional feelings of immortality! And yet, I worry about the here and now which makes me feel very mortal and kind of old:

I worry about the newly inflated HOA condo fees and the number of for-sale listings I see here in Villas land.

I worry about the weird little beep my car makes when I shift into park.

I worry about the tiny gash on my left elbow, not remembering when or how that happened.

I worry about the horror of a possible Trump return to the White House.

I worry about the hurricane survivors who have no water.

I worry about Ukraine, Israel, and Palestine (and now Lebanon).

I worry that I bore my cat.

No matter how much I strive for the "don't fear the reaper" attitude, the worries make me feel very, very not mythic.  And mortal. I know taking constructive action is best; don't worry/be an action figure!

I will chose a real estate broker and get this condo sold.

I will shop for a new vehicle.

I will pay attention to where my body is in space and limit my dancing-flailing approach to movement.

I will vote and send more money to support #Harris/Walz2024.

I will find out how to get that water running and back whoever can make that happen.

I will continue to stand with Ukraine, Israel, the people of Palestine and Lebanon.

I will now play with my cat who needs her person to not be such a drag.

The wills make more sense than the worries.  Even if I am delusional/immortal, I can still deal with the glitches, still(as Aurelie Sheehan wrote, this time I have the source) know that "everything matters utterly - you are made of the minutes you spend."

We are made of these minutes we spend, even if we pretend to be immortal with unlimited minutes.

Here's to the wills and not the worries.

Carry on,

Joyce

Damage

Dear you,

Well, here we are.  A few days from a nation-changing election and I am embedded in Trump country keeping my head up.  Or at least trying to.  Of course, reality looms large, such as the damage done by hurricane Helene.  We do not even know the total death toll or extent of damage.  And while we work to do our best to help, the freaks on the far right are undermining the truth about aid, about help from FEMA, and as you have all heard, they even suggest the hurricane itself was created by whatever they think the left is.  See the infamous MTG of Georgia:  "they can control the weather."  Wow. I am more powerful than I realized! But oh her words, and those of others, do damage.  Undermining truth and undermining what is actually happening to aid those in desperate circumstances. 

And speaking of intentional damage, we face an election in Florida that includes an amendment that would protect abortion rights.  But look first at what the amendment states and then see what the state of Florida added to "comment" on that amendment #4: "No law shall prohibit, penalize, delay, or restrict abortion before viability or when necessary to protect the patient's health, as determined by the patient's healthcare provider.  This amendment does not change the Legislature's constitutional authority to require notification to a parent or guardian before a minor has an abortion."

Here follows some commentary added to the ballot summary sent to voters: "The proposed amendment would result in significantly more abortions and fewer live births per year in Florida . . . An increase in abortions may negatively affect the growth of state and local revenues over time." 

An economic impact prediction/spin?  Really?  A female's autonomy be damned; "let's consider cost."  OF COURSE THERE WILL BE FEWER BIRTHS.  Fewer FORCED births.  Anyone who looks at this issue through the lens of economic impacts is seriously damaged.  Cold, darling.  Just cold. And wrong.  And barbaric. And damaged.

Oh, how they lie.

And then there is Oklahoma, whose school board is requiring schools to include Christian biblical texts in their courses.  This, even if the course is not "World Religions".  And those biblical texts that must be included are ones that insert documents such as the American constitution, the Declaration of Independence, etc., oh, like the recently published TRUMP BIBLES?  Damage.  Damage done to spiritual truth, to the separation of church and state, to essential intellectual coherence.

Well, there you have it.  Meanwhile, here I am in Seagrove Beach, Florida, during what people call "fall break".  This means tons of super-loud pickup trucks with excessive amounts of "short term renters" pulling in to the Villas and taking over. The damage they will do this week is already visible.

Signing off now.  I have to wander around my over-priced parking lot and pick up trash (oh, you don't want to know exactly what that trash includes) tossed from those Trumpy pickup trucks.  Enjoy your stay, assholes! 

Hang in there, everyone.  Damage is done, but truth and hope must rule!  What is the alternative? Be strong.  Be, I hope, all in for #HarrisWalz2024.

Love,

Joyce

Reality versus delusion

 Dear you,

Today, I hear bell hooks - "The most basic activism we can have in our lives is to live consciously in a nation living in fantasies . . . you will face reality, you will not delude yourself."

This, as Trump/Vance lie about immigrants, this as those in charge of my condo world refuse to alert us to what is coming (millions of dollars needed to repair structural decay due to previous management/board avoidance), this as 30A pretends to be the Hamptons of the South. One big cluster of delusional nonsense.

And also this: the death of a lovely orange bougainvillea that once grew by our pool to the east.  Weeks ago, during another mindless "landscaping" frenzy at the Villas, a worker was ordered to take a chainsaw to that gorgeous plant.  Why?  Because the new plan did not include the reality of existing beauty.  Delusion driven, the committee or whoever ordered this stupid action, imagined something they deemed better:  pine straw and a couple of sad little yellow flowering plants that will not survive this hot September. 

Yet another sad, pointless reality to face, a seemingly small thing, a very micro-local thing, but large in terms of meaning. There will always be differences of opinion regarding aesthetics, but come on.  Pine straw v. a colorful, flowering beauty?  I cannot assign malevolent intent to those who ordered the take-down, but I can confidently conclude they are deluded.

So, do something, right? This weekend I am heading to the garden center at Walmart and buying a baby bougainvillea.  I will convince one of the landscaping assassins to plant it in the space where its predecessor thrived. As for the bigger picture "this" list above, I will also continue to donate to the Harris/Walz campaign and hope, hope, hope, realism defeats delusion in November.  I will keep speaking truth about the real financial jeopardy owners will face at this condo. And I will do my best to not get aggravated by the false comparisons penned by silly tourism boards.  (Anyone who has ever been to The Hamptons knows our 30A scene is in no way comparable.  Reality:  We are still best described as the Redneck Riviera.  Own it.)

Keeping it as real as I can day by day,

Joyce

Childless?

Dear you,

Childless.  When did this become a thing to bemoan/criticize?  Gee, all my reproductive hot years, according to the breeding-is-best-advocates, were wasted. And here I was thinking I had happily chosen to go solo and not be a breeder.  As a feminist, and a human being, who is/was audacious enough to consider her singularity valuable, I never imagined the popularity of this newly twisted adjective. Being less without child.  Other derogatory "less" modifiers come to mind:

Hopeless

Meaningless

Joyless

Helpless

Expressionless

Ambitionless

Less as in lacking the noun base thing or quality.  On the other hand, there are positive "less" descriptive words:

Ageless

Boundless

Fearless

Breathless

Hurrah!  If described these ways, I am immune to the effects of age, I live without boundaries or limits, I am not afraid of anything, and I am capable of awe that takes my breath away.

How can I spin an adjective that denotes the NOT joyless experience of avoiding parenthood?  Instead of less, consider "free".  I am a child-free woman of a certain age; there is not less-than or lack here. There is only good old autonomous me. 

Let's see how long this "childless" criticism lasts. If we do elect Harris/Walz, eventually (with time and persistence), the cultural value of choosing to go solo will regain its former luster.

Resist twisted adjectives!

Love,

Child-free Joyce