Keep getting up when you hit the ground.

This week has been painful. You know by now, of course, that the Senate met under cover of night to vote to repeal the Affordable Care Act along party lines (with the exception of Rand Paul, R-KY). Protests in support of the ACA have been popping up across the country, including here in Colorado, where roughly 600,000 people will lose coverage gained through the state exchange and Medicaid expansion, key hallmarks of the federal law. The fear over how to pay for your medical bills, especially when you have a preexisting condition, is what economic anxiety looks like (despite what you may have heard).

Do

I suggest you find a protest in your city or town, flood your elected officials’ phones with calls in support of the ACA, and show up at in-person district events to let your senators and representatives know we won’t be returning to a time when people with preexisting conditions couldn’t get health care (looking at you, Mike Coffman).

We are staring down the inauguration of a deeply loathsome man. It is worse than any horror movie. We will have to fight and resist every day he sits in office, and likely for many years and lifetimes to come. Let’s start with a march, and then carry on from there. As you know, the Women’s March on Washington is expected to draw up to 250,000 women to the National Mall next Saturday, January 21, to mobilize in support of gender, racial, and economic justice (meet the women who are organizing the march). If you can’t make it to D.C., there are dozens of Sister Marches being organized across the country. Please go!

Read

I’m about seven pages into Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen, love of my life. My reading pace has slowed since finishing In the Darkroom, which I mentioned last week, in large part because I’m still reeling from that book’s discussion of the rise of Hungarian fascism/nationalism that’s now firmly taking hold in the country’s parliament.

One of the key components of Hungarian identity, as Faludi describes it, is the constant postulating of Hungary as a historical loser, rendered impotent and maimed after the Treaty of Trianon. That notion of perpetual victimhood leaves Hungarians to reach into the past to crystallize a mythic, nostalgic, “true” Hungarian identity, based in Magyar ethnicity, that prospered before outside forces (read, Jews and immigrants) supposedly contributed to the country’s economic decline in the 20th century. The deep anti-Semitism and hostility to Syrian refugees that pervade Hungary’s current sociopolitical landscape suggest a chilling return to the country’s fascist past, where the project of Making Hungary Great (Again?) was carried out largely through ethnic cleansing. The simplest way to cast your country as a winner? Get rid of everyone you deem a loser.

Which leads me back to Springsteen. If you’ve heard even one Bruce Springsteen song, then you’ve heard a kind of homegrown lore about the blue-collar white Americans who are just trying to make ends meet, do right by their families, and have little bit of fun. These are the types of people, we’re told, voted for trump after getting fed up with feeling like losers. Nevermind, of course, that trump represents the billionaire elite that orchestrate and profit from the white working-class’s continued economic despair. White elites have spent centuries stoking such pervasive racial animus in this country that it doesn’t sting white folks to lose to a white billionaire. It stings to lose–or think you’re losing–compared to someone who isn’t white.

What’s always gotten me about Springsteen is that embedded in the mythology of the down-on-his-luck everyman are clear villains: the shrugging VA liaison; the ruthless factory foreman; a corrupt and vengeful judiciary; hell, even American militarism itself. Springsteen has always used his music to empathize with the people he grew up around, and even to reckon with his own past, but he does so without scapegoating the people of color who often fare much worse in real life than the antiheroes of his vast body of work.

All this is to say, if you’re trying to win, you better be sure who your real enemies are.


Here’s some more stuff to read this week if you, like me, want to be extremely sad:

On the fracturing of the 20th century’s global geopolitical structures:

On the incoming regime’s conflicts of interest:

On the depressing parade of clowns that are the cabinet confirmation hearings:

On the questions feminism should make us ask:

On the too-little-too-late stance of the established left:

On a Sisyphean struggle against police brutality:

And finally, on why we can’t go back:

  • Abortion’s Deadly DIY Past Could Be Its Future by Rebecca Traister.

    “That the right wing’s focus is not simply opposition to abortion but also reducing women’s access to contraception gives away the game: Theirs is an effort to keep women from making decisions about when, if, and under what circumstances to have children, and thereby to keep them from exerting agency over their families, their work, their partnerships, their sex lives, and their bodies. That the restrictions on access most profoundly affect those with the fewest resources means that abortion is not just about women’s equality; it is at the very heart of economic and racial inequality.”

Listen

If you’ve spent every day since November 8th needing to give yourself a mirror pep-talk: Never Give Up” by Sia.

If you’ve sworn off man-children for 2017 and also forever: A double-feature of “Guys My Age” and “Fuqboi” by Hey Violet.

If you’re ready to stick it to someone who doesn’t appreciate you: Tired of Talking” by Léon.

If you’re all about embracing your imperfections and are also a little bit of a Francophile: Tilted” by Christine and the Queens.

If you wish you had caught the first half of the Formation World Tour: Sugar Symphony EP by Chloe x Halle.

Look

I’m going to go see Hidden Figures this week. Maybe you will too!

Amita Swadhin Testifies Against Jeff Sessions, reminds the world that far too many children continue to suffer from abuse with little to no structural support from the state.

Shea Diamond sings an a cappella version of “I Am Her” in front of a backdrop featuring Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

You should absolutely watch the trailer for I Am Not Your Negro, constructed from James Baldwin’s writings and narrated by Samuel L. Jackson.

Jeanine Michna-Bales takes us Along the Old Underground Railroad, One Photo at a Time.

 

Until next time, y’all.

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Let’s try something new.

At the end of every year, my brother sends a long email to an ever-widening circle of friends and family recapping his year in music. He lists his favorite albums, tracks, and concerts, sprinkling in discoveries from another time or era that made their way into his musical lexicon in that particular year. It’s been a delight to read for the past seven or so years, and in 2016 he finally inspired me to tackle a similar challenge. I’ll spare the greater internet (ha) what mostly ended up being a 3,000 word treatise on the joint sublimity of the Knowles sisters and try to do something a little different here.

At the beginning of every year, I tell myself, “This will be the year I finally listen to new music/watch the hip new TV shows/see a single movie!” With the exception of a massive cramming session during December 2016 where I listened to approximately 25 new-ish albums, I fail miserably at this task each time. I also tell myself that I’ll finally start writing in that long-neglected blog I’ve let languish in some far off corner of the web, my memory jolted by a form email from WordPress that managed to pummel through my spam filters.

I’m a person who does things in fits and starts, but as my late 20’s lurk around the corner (shudder), I’m going to give my best effort to becoming one of those fabled people who do things consistently, for longer than six months. I had such a good time writing that long 2016 music email that I realized perhaps I could join my goal of becoming a more Cultured Person™ with that of writing anything at all, and so the idea for this series was born. In many ways, it’s a riff off of the Ann Friedman Weekly (to which I encourage all to subscribe) in that I’ll be making some recommendations based on what I’m reading, watching, and listening to in a given week, with some of my commentary interspersed. Maybe there will be other sections too! Who knows. This is all an experiment at making myself engage more consistently with art, others’ as much as my own. I’ll make it up as I go.

Without any further ado, let’s get into it.

Do

Turns out as I was writing this, a bunch of activist-oriented stuff floated to the fore. Go figure! Here’s some stuff you can do if you’re feeling extremely blue that there are only 11 short days until the incoming administration begins to rip our already-in-shambles democracy asunder.

If you have 5 minutes:

  • Check out the Sister District Project and sign up to volunteer. The new organization aims to mobilize activists and voters in blue districts to support their comrades in red districts to build progressive power at the local and state levels.
  • Consider how you might participate in the Anti-Inauguration. Might I suggest heeding The Call from the Movement for Black Lives as a place to start?

If you have 15 minutes:

If you have 30 minutes or more:

  • Get up to speed on effective political advocacy. I highly recommend familiarizing yourself with the Indivisible Guide, a clear, straightforward outline for how to engage in defensive activism against a racist, neo-fascist policy agenda.
  • Follow Rewire Media’s legislative tracker, which documents, among other things: proposed legislation restricting reproductive justice; so-called “religious freedom” bills that allow businesses exemptions from complying with nondiscrimination laws; and nefarious “bathroom bills” that enshrine social and economic discrimination against trans and gender-non-conforming individuals.

Read

If you’re looking for a novel:

  • I recommend Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi. It’s a sweeping chronicle of the interwoven lineages of two Ghanaian half-sisters, one of whom marries an English slave trader and the other who is sold into bondage. This book is stunning in its scope and complexity, and Gyasi’s matter-of-fact prose is at once nuanced, compassionate, and unrelenting.

If non-fiction is more your speed:

  • Check out In the Darkroom by Susan Faludi. On its surface, the book is about the author’s Hungarian Jewish father who undergoes sexual reassignment surgery in her 70’s. But deeper than that, Faludi grapples with what it means to forge an identity at the nexus of gender, religion, and nationalism, and what relationship (if any) our present selves have to the past or the “truth.”

If you’re more of a multiple-browser-tabs-open kinda person:

Listen

If you’re a girl who likes girls (romantically or otherwise): Citrine EP by Hayley Kiyoko.

If you’re into sexy, smooth-talking, and kinda minimalist hip-hop: Ego Death by The Internet.

If you want to honor the late, great Carrie Fisher’s give-no-fucks attitude about mental illness: Out of the Garden by Tancred.

If your entire life is one big ’80s dancehall illusion: “Nothing’s Real” by Shura.

If you want a back-to-basics lesson on how to holler: Your Number” by Ayo Jay.

If you’ve been meaning to brush up on your seductive witchcraft skills: Potions” by SEE.

If you’re glad (like me) that someone finally wrote a song celebrating the A+ combo of little titties and a fat belly: Tomboy” by Princess Nokia.

Watch

If you were wondering what all this Golden Globe fuss is about: Moonlight, which is so gorgeous that it almost renders all other movies meaningless (I kid, kind of). I’ll be honest: I don’t really like movies that much. But occasionally I feel compelled to see something (in theaters!) and it just blows me away, makes me wonder why anyone allows anything that isn’t up to the same caliber to get produced in the first place. Moonlight was one of the few movies in recent memory that’s done that for me. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Bonus read: this interview with André Holland, who plays adult Kevin with an astonishing level of care and tenderness.

If you just finished setting up your monthly recurring donation to Planned Parenthood: BoJack Horseman, season 3, episode 6. (If you don’t have Netflix, I am sorry. Please enjoy this hilarious link to bojackhorseman.com instead.)

If you’re still using “password” for all your passwords: The Basics of Internet Security.

Until next time, y’all.