then i remember
on covid, revolt, and soft reminders
Dear Beloved,
First, happy fall. I’m writing to you on the equinox through a headache, congestion, and fatigue. I caught this year’s second round of Covid two weeks ago, and the recovery moves in waves. According to the People's CDC’s latest report, my case is one of many in the latest surge. Transmission rates are growing in the Midwest.
While the regime strips copper from the walls of our public health institutions, more states are banding together to address the Covid pandemic and new increasing outbreaks. Washington, Oregon, and California have formed the West Coast Health Alliance, and several east coast states followed suit to create the Northeast Public Health Collaborative.
I’m happy that steps are being taken to pull away from the regime’s death cult, it’s like watching small cracks on a dam wall deepen. Sometimes, I wonder a long missed river waits behind it or simply a flood. Probably both.
I remember when the pandemic rolled in and then the 2020 uprisings. Despite best efforts of the state, the world changed. The incremental cracks in the veneer of respectability and civility finally broke it open. I remember feeling a sense of awe and loss. I even grieved.
“It’s like I just learning how to navigate the rules and now they’ve suddenly changed. I don’t know what to do anymore,” I’d confided to a friend. The goal post had shifted. Five years, it keeps moving further away.
As the economy swings into turmoil and the regime’s base increases its reckless violence, I watch the elite change the rules to benefit themselves again and again. The rich get richer, the powerful keep getting away with genocide and human trafficking and rape. Consequences for powerful men seem like wishful thinking.
But then I see what’s happening in Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Bangladesh, South Korea, Syria, Kenya, Philippines, Italy, Nepal. Sparks are catching; revolt is spreading globally.
The world is changing, and the oligarchy is hanging on to its power by its fingernails. The united states is western imperialism’s guard dog. When it falls, more states and across the world will fall with it. All the elite have to hold on to is a dying system.
We have each other.
In times such as these, it’s easy to sink into despair. Revolutionary optimism is a practice, a discipline. When I find myself scrolling through headlines and unanswered mutual aid requests, delving into cynicism, I have to remind myself that human beings are overall actually pretty cool and we belong in this world and to one another.
That we’re worth saving and we will save each other.
So here is a list of cool things by cool humans that is getting me through The Times.
This flavorful, comforting, and super easy chuck roast recipe by Iraqi Canadian food blogger Amina Al-Saigh revived me on Monday. I saw God when the roast fell apart with just a poke of a spoon.
To add to the ultimate lazy enby recipe, I threw some rice, turmeric, bay leaves, and butter in a ricecooker. The roast - plus the gravy - on top made the tears and $26 shed for a single chuck roast worth it.Abolitionist organizer Mariame Kaba worked with a classroom to imagine a future without incarceration, surveillance, or police. She shared this beautiful video the project and with it, a reminder that children’s imagination leads the way.
The Cloud Appreciation Society is a thing. It’s a beautiful thing. People gather online to share art, poetry, music, and of course, photos of clouds. I love our ceaseless awe and joy at the natural world, and I love even more when we come together to celebrate it.
Crepuscular rays in the form of ‘spotlights’ over Madison, Wisconsin, US © Michael Fleenor Crip News, written and curated by Kevin Gotkin, just celebrated its 200th newsletter! This weekly digest of disability culture, events, and celebrations has brought me joy and much needed connection, as I level up my social distance due to chronic illness and an increasingly vulnerable immune system.
I recently found A SteamPunk’s Guide to the Apocalypse by Margaret Killjoy, which, in true Margaret Killjoy fashion, mixes the speculative with the reality. It’s framed as a guidebook for surviving an apocalypse, introduced almost like a D&D game master welcoming readers to the fun, and then goes straight to prepping.
Chapters are divided by subject (shelter, water filtration, etc) and written in plain (and sometimes playful) language. There are easy-to-follow instructions, diagrams, and logical
Seed sharing community 🌱
With my aspiration to be your local queer farmer, I’ve recently stepped into container gardening and seed saving. I’ve also started talking with some passionate gardeners, and to no one’s surprise, have met some of the most passionate, generous people eager to trade or gift seeds freely.
I think these seeds, plants, and the people who love them offer a great model for the global economy.The emerging literary genre that is climate fiction! Or cli-fi, for short. A community of writers at Climate Fiction Writers League is organizing writers and telling stories about changing climates.
They just hosted a free craft talk, Climate Storytelling for Fiction Writers.Daily walks with my puppy, Mia, and our interactions with people. She prances over to anyone like a long lost friend, and 99% of people are delighted. Her dog grin and wagging tail bring out the best in strangers.
Yes, I hate it when she barks at 4 in the morning or tries to eat our cats’ poop or chews cords. But she’s the best.
Mia’s helped me meet more neighbors in the last 2 months than I have in the 6 months before we adopted her.This poem, written by celina mcmanus after reading World of Wonders by Aimee Nezhukumatathil and navigating chronic fatigue in their church’s September garden.
bees on borage / cosmos pink / the swoop dip of canadian geese bathing / the bloop of a virtual vampire squid / i collect small noticings like dandruff clung to my middle-aged black cat / the small stars that hang on the limb after gathering handfuls of purple tomatoes / the scent of vegetation / hidden cucumber / an okra plant taller than my reach / flowers flowers flowers painted as a purposeful bruise / a tear to the achilles heel after reaching for a lightning bug / a volunteer tomato plant from last years seed / i harvest / there’s still more beans / sitting among the hops / running from the rain / the enclosed mouth of a morning glory / a stranger’s faint crunches on leaves / the cucumbers wedge themselves in grates / funky but edible / it is 80 degrees this late September afternoon / there are 30 orange nasturtium flowers / the bees nibble / fuzz on fuzz / still working / unaware this excess heat is not their friend / and, still, i go to the garden / feeding mouths i will never meet