#these days

"The first thing to say about fascism’s Cassandras is they’re usually women. Not all women are Cassandras (most aren’t), but most Cassandras are women. My sense is that Black Americans, of either gender, are likelier than whites to be Cassandras, and trans and nonbinary people are heavily overrepresented within the group. 

Cassandras live across America; from coast to coast, in urban, suburban, and rural areas, in red, blue, and purple states. The assumption that Trump Derangement Syndrome, to use the right’s mocking phrase, is a malady peculiar to big, blue coastal cities could not be further from the truth. I met Cassandras from Brooklyn, but I also talked with many in smaller towns and cities across the South. A very, very common trait—even for big blue city Cassandras—is having lived in a heavily Republican, deeply conservative area for a long period of time. 

Universally, Cassandras have a strong sense of their own values. In contrast to some politics enthusiasts who pinball between different tribes, they tend to be lifelong liberals. Many of those raised by conservatives recall arguing with their parents about politics as children. 

It’s also worth noting what Cassandras do not share: income level, social class, or type of occupation. I talked with janitors and Wall Street bankers, lawyers and landscape designers. People out of work, retirees, and food delivery drivers. Army vets and animal vets. Software engineers and mechanical engineers. And, yes, college professors. Much has been made of the cross-class nature of Trump’s strongest support. That the same is true of his strongest opposition is far less discussed, if it’s even considered worthy of discussion at all. 

And they sound different. Some are confident speakers, some are more nervous. Some carefully think through every word, others simply launch in. Some are bubbly, some somber; some have that metallic dryness in their voice that comes from being afraid for long periods of time.

They have many names; Yahweh, Elohim, Jehovah, Allah, Ahura Mazda, Brahman, Wanka Tanka, Yuanshi Tianzun, The Tao, Ame-no-Minakanushi, Ông Trời, Ādi-Buddha, Shangdi, Tengri, Tian, Haneunim, Śakra, Tenri-Ō-no-Mikoto, Indra, Unkulunkulu, The Atman, Mungu, Nyambe, Amma, Mbombo, Mbori, The Great Spirit, Baiame, Eru Ilúvatar, God,

But to Charlie they are simply… Grandfather

post movie date, before opting for an italian meal course and a late-night indian intercourse.

which is weird, cause you've had them forever, and sure, you're a little scared of dogs in certain contexts, but you used to be way more scared than you are now, and it's not like you can remember ever being bitten.

but you remember how your old lovers all used to remark on how jumpy you were — are you sure a dog never hurt you? it happens to a lot of people, you know, you can tell me — and how little you can remember of some things from a long time ago, and how, if you try to imagine it, if you sit down and picture the dog as vividly and fully as possible, something very young and frightened inside of you starts screaming and doesn't stop until you cry yourself to sleep.

maybe it's time to ask why a person with a massive old festering dog bite might have made it this far without remembering. and once you've folded yourself in half and wept an ocean for that scared kid back then, tiny body limp in the jaws of something she didn't understand, maybe it's best to get some dog bite treatment. rabies shot, wound care, rest and recovery. you deserved that care twenty years ago, and you deserve it now.