I don’t want to reach across the aisle to the people who are cheering the destruction of California.
I am sick of being asked to compromise with these people. To understand them. To try to find common ground. To have “open conversations” with them.
The effort to do so is never encouraged from the opposite direction.
All of this is akin to being back in elementary school and being told by the teacher to work it out with the bully. The bully is not interested. The bully doesn’t care. The bully only wants one thing – to make you as miserable as possible even if it’s ultimately to their own detriment. You cannot love your oppressors into giving you your rights back.
When North Carolina was devastated by the hurricanes, I did not cheer. I did not celebrate.
I was not excited. When red states are destroyed, when republican candidates are attacked, when CEOs are unalived, we are told we are all Americans (a label one can hardly be proud of these days) and “we are better than this.”
Not only are we not better than this, but for a very long time it has felt like only one side of the equation is being asked to be better.
How much better can we be? It’s not making a difference in how these people see us, how they choose to vote, how they behave.
“When they go low, we go high” is one of the worst phrases ever uttered.
Also
I told someone yesterday that I never liked The Flintstones and when I explained why I specified that the only reason was Fred.
I fucking hate Fred Flintstone and think he’s a massive asshole.
Just the absolute worst.
And if he existed today, he’d almost certainly wear a MAGA hat.
—emily duchaine
Flommist Emily Duchaine lives in the Pacific Northwest. She likes to drink mead, learn about sharks, and listen to the Talking Heads. She pretends to be a professional businesswoman most days. Copyright © 2025 Emily Duchaine. Foto swiped from.
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