I really do hate Republicans, don’t get me wrong, right, but the older I get, the more I hate Democrats just a little bit more.

“How?” the upper middle class white women of the last generation all cry out in agony. They pull at their bob cuts, drag their manicured nails over their faces and wail about their rights. How could I ignore their rights like that?!

I’m really not, Deborah. Let’s just think about this, though. Let’s ignore anything that’s actually happening, though, because msnbc has already told you exactly how to feel about that. Let’s think instead about a hypothetical scenario I’m damn fucking sure of:

There is a homeless man.

I’m not giving you more info than that. It’s unnecessary, for the sake of this. He has no race, no sex, no age, none of that easy shit. He’s just a man, and he’s homeless. He’s outside a place you and Republican Cathy both frequent, mmkay?

Maybe it’s Macys. Is there still Macys? Whatever.

So he’s there, right, and no one’s noticed him yet.

On the off chance both you and Republican Cathy don’t just call the police on him, and that’s already a bit of a leap, let’s guess what you do.

My assumption is that Republican Cathy wants him to get a job. Regardless of what’s going on in this guy’s life, however, this is ridiculous. Stupid. She’s insane. Let her blow up on nextdoor, whatever. She’s mad, she’s maybe using slurs. Honestly, who knows.

We all know Republican Cathy is trash, though. She’s Republican Cathy. Like a fucking poisonous snake she slinks through life with the colors all there, warning us away. Her shirt reads “Trump Lives Matter” and her lips are pursed with hate.

Then there’s you, Democrat Deborah.

You wouldn’t say something like that, right? You don’t complain about the homeless on nextdoor–at least, not in the same way. You spend more of your time complaining about how minorities lost Kamala the election, but that is neither here nor there.

The point is, you do good things, right? You smile at him, even, and say “Hello!”

He asks for money. Goodness.

You won’t give him that.

And here we get to you, and who you are, and how you think about it.

You won’t give him money. You don’t give your own children money. You “worked hard” for everything you got, back in the day, and by gosh, these fucking cunts are gonna do the same!! 😀

You aren’t heartless, though. You buy him one of those really expensive granola bars, and maybe some soap. You take a picture of him, maybe even. It’s just as important, after all, that your act inspire others.

I’ve been angry lately in a way that I can’t dim. I’m mad, I’m pissed, I’m so incredibly disgusted with who’s what here and what they think they are and the fucking clusterfuck y’all made for us, never mind our children. I’m furious that people like you can flick through life thinking you’re good people, patronizing those with less privilege, less luck, but in theory you support trans rights n shit, yes?

Provided she’s a nice upper middle class white woman like you, of course. And! Willing to take a photograph with you for it. Pose for your facebook, or whatever. You’ll deadname her immediately, just so people know how trans friendly you’re being.

You don’t have the toxic warning signs of Republican Cathy. You hide from all, especially yourself. Your sweater has the equality sign on it, and yet just as many folks–if not more–have suffered for the ease of your home and life.

This delusion you both have that you’re different is vile. You think the rest of us care? You think it affects us? It reminds me of fucking wars of old. Some new King on that high hill? Sure, ok, whatever, I’ll pledge loyalty. Do I still send half my crops to the same place, and if I don’t send enough, do you still chop off my hand?

Of course you do.

Do you think the dead kids, the orphans, the parents who’ve lost their children, the unhoused and the dying–all those we are butchering both here and abroad–do you think they care if you supported the presidential candidate that maybe wants more people to recycle?

Recycling is its own can of fucking worms.

I’m so angry. I’m so angry. I’m so angry. I’m so angry.

Our future rotted at your fingertips, but sure. Thanks so much for all those parties y’all throw, chatting it up with other yous, all of you so plum pleased with yourselves, so educated. It really helps the rest of us a lot.

With Cathy–at least she tells you who she is. At least she knows.

You don’t know a damn thing, do you?