se•di•tion — conduct or speech inciting people to rebel against the authority of a state or monarch.

The things I couldn’t say on Facebook.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they are just wings of the same bird.

Or the Original Deep Fake (White Jesus) excerpted from Circumventing Your Religion to Find My God(s) Maybe it was that picture of The Last Supper I found in the basement — the one stored away around the same time my God stopped being my father’s God. The famous da Vinci version. You know it. White men in Italian robes sitting at a long table with silver plates and glass goblets that didn’t exist in first-century Jerusalem.

I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of weeks — and I’m trying hard not to be accused of calling for violence.

I remember the box — brown, long, and heavy — inside a brick of government cheese.

…you brought me in this world Happy Ancestral Birthday, Mom! As I celebrate your 95th year—only 68 on this side of the plane, way too short—it’s hard to say I miss you because, although you’re not here in the flesh, I probably talk to you more than ever. I hear your voice clearly when I sit still to listen. To remember.

The storm of this administration is getting stronger faster than anyone could have imagined. Well, I guess you ignored the forecast—Project 2025 wasn’t a whisper, it was a warning siren. They blew it in your face, and you ignored it. This is the worst disaster in history—a typhoon, wrapped in a tsunami, wrapped in a hurricane, birthing severe thunderstorms that spawn tornadoes, splitting the Continental Divide itself with earthquakes that register a 10.0 on the Richter scale.

I. The First Civil War: A Lesson in Division The first Civil War didn’t begin with a grand declaration or a congressional vote. It began with a shot. In 1861, there was only one United States Army. No North Army. No South Army. Just one body of soldiers who suddenly had to choose a side. For some, loyalty was to the Union.

Yesterday was homecoming and my 45th high school class reunion. The class of ’80, the first desegregated class to matriculate through the Evanston Public School District. When we began our educational journey as five- and six-year-olds, we couldn’t comprehend the significance of it. There was no ceremonial welcome, no assembly to tell us why it mattered, no acknowledgement that we were special.

In Tulsa, 1921, the cover story was “an uprising.” White mobs, backed by police, burned down Greenwood and dropped fire from the sky. The truth never had to be proven; the accusation was enough to authorize a massacre. In Philadelphia, 1985, the excuse was “public nuisance.” Police dropped a bomb on the MOVE house, killed 11 people—including five children—and burned out 61 Black families who had nothing to do with MOVE.

No paper trail.No midwife’s mark.No certificate to prove the day. Just Marlboro County fields,tobacco barns breathing their smoke,and the cry of the first of twelve —a Black child under Jim Crow skies. If he went to school, it was brief.The rows of cotton and tobacco called louder.He couldn’t read.But he could live.

From DEI to W.E.I.: Quantico Wasn’t a Briefing — It Was a Whiteness War Sermon Pete Hegseth just told the entire U.S. military that you’re fat, ugly, stupid, weak, and lazy — and that the rot starts at the top. He said no more “dudes in dresses,” but the only two dudes on that stage wearing makeup were him, with his face fully beat, and another man glowing orange like a custom blend from Maybelline or L’Oréal.

Remember Minority Report with Tom Cruise? The precogs could predict who was going to commit murder and the cops would swoop in before it happened. Crime nearly vanished because they followed the pattern. We don’t even need precogs. We already know the pattern. The majority of mass shooters in America look the same. White. Male. Angry. The suburbs. The dog in the yard.

Tonight, it’s going to be interesting to see what monologue Jimmy Kimmel comes out with. Will he be muted? Sanitized? Forced to issue a public apology to Charlie Kirk’s family for his “insensitivit…

Tonight, it’s going to be interesting to see what monologue Jimmy Kimmel comes out with. Will he be muted? Sanitized? Forced to issue a public apology to Charlie Kirk’s family for his “insensitivity”? I don’t think he was suspended for what he said about Kirk or the MAGA horde. He was suspended for airing the obvious lack of empathy when Trump was asked about his friend being killed.

I never thought I’d be thankful that our washing machine broke. Truth be told, I hate laundromats. I’d rather walk barefoot down a gravel alley than sit under those flickering fluorescent lights, waiting for my drawers to spin dry. Call me snobbish, but the thought of hauling my dirty clothes to a public space makes me itch. The laundromat near my house growing up was hot, grimy, and a little scary — not a place you lingered.

EnigmaNouna person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand. GamineNounan attractive and usually thin and small woman or girl who often shows a playful desire to cause trouble. Now I’m not a conspiracy theorist, although it’s sometimes fun to delve into some of the craziness, especially since the inception of the internet. I’ll let my readers go down their own rabbit holes on the connection of the words.

This is my favorite picture of my mother, not sure of the date but guessing around '59-60. The last few days my head has been a little muzzy; I’ve been in a weird place. At first, I thought it was just the constant barrage of ridiculous news cycles. I kept hearing a voice in my head, the way you hear a radio broadcast coming from another room in the house with a weak signal, the white noise and static making it inaudible but still familiar.

I keep thinking about when the first shot will be fired, the one that sparks the next Civil War. Will it come from a trigger-happy weekend warrior in the National Guard?Will it come from a fed-up community member staring down soldiers patrolling their block?Will it come during an ICE raid on some unsuspecting family at Home Depot, where the wrong person resists, and the bullets fly?

Some of you will be offended by what I’m about to say, but as the old saying goes, a hit dog will holler. On the 70th anniversary of Emmett Till’s murder, I woke up furious. Another church shooting in Minneapolis only threw gasoline on the fire. Let’s stop pretending, let’s stop dancing around it: the most dangerous people walking this planet are white males.

At the very top sits a man with the vocabulary of a 4th grader, never proven to have graduated from any college (well, maybe Trump U.). The head of this idiotoracy plants himself behind the Resolute Desk, scrawling his name on executive orders he couldn’t explain if you spotted him the first three sentences. Each one has to be read aloud to him by one of his loyal sycophants, who nod approvingly like kindergarten teachers praising a child for coloring inside the lines.

'Cause the whole world loves it when you don't get down(Bah bah-da, bah bah, bah-da da)And the whole world loves it when you make that sound(Bah bah-da, bah bah, bah-da da)And the whole world loves it when you're in the news(Bah bah-da, bah bah, bah-da da)And the whole world loves it when you sang the blues…

This picture says it all but... PUTIN: Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen, our negotiations have been held in a constructive atmosphere of mutual respect.BAT: I told your feeble leader how this was going down in the first two minutes. He spent the next two hours begging me not to make him look like Boo Boo the Fool. PUTIN: I would like to thank my American counterpart for traveling out here to Alaska.