Wednesday, May 31, 2017

King Charles III

What might be: King Charles III, a meta play

As readers of this blog might have already guessed I’m intrigued by meta literature. One reason I’ve also been loving McSweeney’s lately. It’s a sort of meta comedy or satire when a journal decides to run Trump’s Black History Month speech in its entirety—as humor.

The whole meta thing seems to fit into what’s going on right now. I mean a reality TV star becomes president. He says something is fake or declares suddenly top-secret intel is now declassified. Climate change is a hoax, as also is his campaigns involvement with Russia. Up is down and down is up. When people talk about surreal, then I immediately think they’re talking about this administration.

I’ve told a few close friends this: I grew up with an illogical mother. It was hard on a day to day basis to ever know what she might do. One might think it was a mother/daughter thing—I know I tried to believe this—but through the years I saw that at times her thinking was disordered, irrational. I was at a loss. There was no talking to her or redirecting. Lately I’ve been feeling again this powerlessness.

King Charles III is a 2014 play in blank verse by Mike Bartlett about the current Prince of Wales and what MIGHT happen when the present Queen Elizabeth passes away. But the characters are Shakespearean, driven by their own greed for power, palace intrigue, and morally conflicted by passion and loyalty. In the midst of this tele-play Diana makes an appearance as a midnight ghost. She is lovely.

I wonder home the Royal Family received this play. Let’s just say Kate Middleton who in the tabloids appears to us as a wonderful girl who has provided an heir and wears her clothes beautifully comes across in King Charles III as complex, layered, a bit of a bitch. Will is able to be swayed, Charles rises to the occasion and beyond, Harry is on the surface the playboy, but underneath torn between loyalty to his family and the idea of a monarchy. My favorite line—again with echoes here of the stereotype Charles has been portrayed as—“will I go back in the public’s eye to the doddering gardener?”

The play plays with us. The media and the public—in fact the characters turn to us, the audience, to address us. At one point Kate Middleton looks straight into the camera and says: You don’t know me.

This is the type of playwriting that I think today’s audience I captivated by. We are now so jaded by reality that meta material is readily accepted. We are now able to watch ourselves watch ourselves—wondering how it will all turn out.


Friday, May 26, 2017

New Work up at Watershed Review

Check out a brand new story at Watershed Review

Delivery Man by Jane Hertenstein

A couple of summers ago I delivered pizzas. I came home from college and, rather than doing my normal camp counselor job, I drove pizzas all over town for Joe’s, in order to be there for my mom who was battling end-stage breast cancer.
Overall it was a shitty job, but someone had to do it. And it seems for as long as I’ve been in this family, on this earth, it’s fallen to me. How do I know this? Let me tell you.
I think it was my first week on the job, a dumb-fuck job that Joe the manager always acted like I should be lucky to have. I mean, yeah, it was last minute, but that’s because every other driver who’s worked for him has quit. I should have too. There were some nights when all I wanted to do was make it back alive.
At least no one tried to rob me.
So this one particular night I came in around 7 p.m. and picked up two orders. None of them to the greatest part of town. Understand: no tip.
My first delivery was to a mobile home court, not the worst, one with nicely trimmed postage stamp-size lawns and neatly groomed gravel driveways. I pulled up to a trailer with whirligigs in the yard that rotated with the passing breeze and wooden wind chimes that bonked and rattled as I got out of the car. It’s always a question of do I leave the car running? An old guy pushed the curtains aside and looked out at me. I waved. Embarrassed, after a second I lowered my hand. This wasn’t old home week. Just deliver and go.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Exit West

Exit West by Mohsin Hamid
Book Review

I’ve read The Reluctant Fundamentalist and How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia, the latter a bit tongue-in-cheek, very self-conscious of the global economy, and man’s place in the universe of commerce. In fact many of his stories play with contemporary history—not through the eyes of a romantic, but a pragmatist. The world is basically screwed—which is why I loved his latest novel because moving instinctively with this premise he gently leads us into a dystopia, something not unlike what “could be.”

Yet, the novels I’ve mentioned and this latest addition all are love stories. So maybe he is a romantic. Maybe there is hope after all.

Exit West is about doors, doors that connect us other lives, just as his books are portals into the lives of others—mostly what might be considered third-world, whatever that means because these definitions are quickly shifting.

The US used to be a world leader, used to stand for democracy. How quickly things can change.

A young couple sits at a cafĂ©, an awkward first date with their phones between them, screen down on the table. Very millennial. Nothing in this scene prepares us for a coming apocalypse. We are comfortable that life will continue as it always has in a somewhat ordered and reasonable manner, but yet in dark corners there are hints that all is not as it should be. I’m surprised at how easily the couple accommodated, adjusted to each new reality. Much like a couple dining in a burned out rubble house during World War II. We burned electricity until it no longer came out of the wall and then lit candles until we ran out of matches and wax. From disaster to catastrophe with the instincts of a survivor.

The metaphor or use of doors to: travel. To suddenly end up somewhere else speaks to the sudden shifts in population we are now experiencing. The crisis magnified by native reaction. Scenes in the book read like headlines. Women in train stations fearful of holiday-making migrants, refugees pulling down fences, foreigners living in tent cities. Constantly the push and pull of humanity to resettle and start afresh.


I would pair this book with Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad. There is a speculative nature to the story, the fantastic where people groups move out of slavery or away from war and certain death, and how the contemporary informs the story. I wouldn’t classify either of these works as science fiction. More like: What if?

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Post-Language

I've written here now numerous times about life post-Trump, and my frustration with how the world of words has turned inside out. A recent article by Masha Gesson, "The Autocrat’s Language", speaks to this phenomena. Specifically how language was manipulated in the Soviet Union and now in Putin's Russia--how the very word for something now means the opposite. 

I experienced this first under George Bush. 

In her piece, Gesson analyzes a recent interview with Trump, what she calls word piles or what David Brooks describes in a New York Times editorial: "We’ve got this perverse situation in which the vast analytic powers of the entire world are being spent trying to understand a guy whose thoughts are often just six fireflies beeping randomly in a jar."

For example, "fake news" refers to the press pool and anything printed about him that he objects to. Or how the head of the EPA is working against environmental protections.

Et cetera.

Check out Masha Gesson's, "The Autocrat’s Language" and how this current administration has corrupted language and misled with words.



Monday, May 22, 2017

Closing Sale

So far this year feels a lot like the end of 2016=filled with loss. Though a death of a different kind, the closing of my favorite tea shop makes me mourn.

Pars is run by a reverent Iranian gentleman. I remember stopping in there the morning of the British vote to leave the EU. The owner and his friend, perhaps a retiree because he was often there, were streaming the news on their computer. Together we watched. What could we say to each other? Things come to an end.

Always after my purchase he would look me in the eye and say God bless you. I felt as if I’d entered a confessional and was given forgiveness. I know, I know, it’s just tea, but it means everything to me.


I begged him to stay, to arrange for some else to manage the shop, but he said, no, it’s time. I scanned the shelves, already they were emptying. I quickly filled a baggie with Monk tea, an aromatic mixture of orange peel with hints of vanilla and a spring garden. Where will I now go—on a winter’s day to feel love, to receive mercy? To return home warm and cozy, with subsistence?? The stuff of life . . . 


Friday, May 19, 2017

Ever Bloom



My friend Tammy Perlmutter has a poem in this anthology. Tammy is a persistent blogger and founder of The Mudroom, a blogging alliance.

From her blog:
In 2009 Zadie Smith wrote a piece called “The Rise of the Essay.” She writes about the problems of even the highest-regarded classical literary fiction and the arguments that “all plots are ‘conventional’ and all characters sentimental and bourgeois, and all settings bad theatrical backdrops, wooden and painted.” 
Instead of mourning the demise of the perfect novel, she poses an important question: “Will the ‘lyrical essay,’ be the answer to the novel’s problems? Is the very idea of plot, character and setting in the novel to be abandoned, no longer fit for our new purposes, and all ground ceded to the coolly superior, aphoristic essay?” 
Virginia Woolf herself wrote an essay on essays called “The Modern Essay” in which she wrote. “There is no room for the impurities of literature in an essay. The essay must be pure—pure like water or pure like wine, but pure from dullness, deadness, and deposits of extraneous matter.” I think that is precisely what draws us in. Because it is a true story, you know the plot is already perfect.
In this collection of essays you have true stories from the women of Redbud Writers Guild,  “a diverse group of authors, writers and speakers who communicate in order to empower women to use their voices to be world-changers.” These women invite you into their hearts and histories with narratives of confession and lament, healing and remission, finding voice and standing ground. 
Check it out and buy a book! Support a fellow memoirist/pilgrim writer.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Two Dreams


I usually don’t dream. I think it comes from being sleep-deprived. Once I hit the pillow, I’m gone. They come before the alarm. And now with the daylights savings time—or whatever place we’re in, ordinary time—it’s getting light earlier. I awake panicky, thinking I’ve overslept.

Anyway, I remember 2 dreams from this week. One was PTS. Post-Trump Syndrome. I must’ve been watching the news before bed because I dreamed ICE was pursuing me. Ironically, I was a dreamer. So in my dream, I dreamed I was a dreamer—my dream about to disappear. Then the alarm went off.

The second dream took a little longer. I remember setting it up. It took awhile to get everything into place for the dream or fantasy/story to begin. In fact, I remember thinking in the dream that this reminds me of Grace, my daughter. She’d get out all her Fissher-Price peoples, get them set up, get the drama ready and—lo and behold—it was time to clean up, time for bed, dinner, bath. Some impending interruption that sent her over emotionally. I completely understand—I was already to dream!

I guess the Jungian take-away is incompletion. We might never get a chance to finish what we’ve started.


Except I plan to sleep in this weekend.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Resources for the Flasher

Memoirous gets about 10,000 hits a month!

I want to say thank you and encourage all my readers to BUY my books. If just one in 100 of you buy a book (or books), then I will . . . I was never good at math, but I like the sound of 1 in 100! 

I'm about to release FLASH MEMOIR: WRITING PROMPTS TO GET YOU FLASHING. Until then  . . .

Freeze Frame is available as an eBook for 2.99. Many of us are looking to write memories—either in the form of literary memoir or simply to record family history. This how-to book looks at memoir in small, bite-size pieces, helping the writer to isolate or freeze-frame a moment and then distill it onto paper.

365 Affirmations for the Writer, an eBook for 3.99. Writing is a journey. Every time we sit down to begin a piece or write the first chapter or the first line we are venturing into uncharted territory. 365 Affirmations for the Writer is about listening to those who have gone before us and letting them guide us with their insight, their own trials. By reading what others have said, we can survey the path before us, count the cost, and plunge ahead.

Every morning I read 365 Affirmations for the Writer by Jane Hertenstein. It's a daily shot of encouragement in the arm. http://groggorg.blogspot.com/2015/04/meet-sue-shanahan-by-suzy-leopold.html

More than affirmations there are countless writing prompts to get you started and keep you inspired.
Also check out Orphan Girl. Available as an eBook but also in paperback. Tens of thousands of homeless people walk the streets, forgotten, yet each with their own story to tell. Marie James, a 69-year-old bag lady, and a frequent guest at an inner-city mission in Chicago, sat with Jane Hertenstein through the summer of 1995 and recorded this shocking and moving story of life filled with sorrow, loss, mental instability, and hope. Her memoir will break one's heart, yet encourage and inspire. -- "Harrowing inside view of homelessness", -- Publishers Weekly, August 11, 1997

Also available through:

Smashwords

Apple

Baker & Taylor Blio

Baker-Taylor Axis360

Barnes & Noble

Diesel

Flipkart

Gardners Extended Retail

Gardners Library

Inktera (formerly Page Foundry)

Kobo

Library Direct

Odilo

OverDrive

Oyster

Scribd

Sony

Tolino

txtr

Yuzu

Friday, May 12, 2017

Trump’s Vietnam

Book Review
Vietnam: The History of the War
Russell Freedman


I’ve been on a Russell Freedman kick lately. I love his histories filled with interesting pictures. The books might be classified as picture books for young adults. Indeed, his Lincoln: A Photobiography won the Newbery Award.

A few years back I read his book on the Wright Brothers—probably because I’m from Dayton, Ohio and as a schoolchild I visited many of the historic sites where the brothers lived and practiced flying. (Though their bike shop is in Greenfield Village, scooped up by Henry Ford and displaced to Dearborn, Michigan). Anyway, it is somewhat a miracle that the Wright Brothers invented the airplane. Of course, I always feel like that when boarding a plane. How does this work! What keep this thing from falling from the sky?!

Only one of the brothers bothered finishing high school. They started first with the printing press, selling broadsides etc. Then saw the rage for bicycling and moved on to that. But by this time they were also curious about flying and contacted the Smithsonian for information. They were very methodical in their research and what looked like risk was, in fact, well calculated.

Just like Freedman when preparing his picto-biographies.

Vietnam is his latest contribution to non-fiction literature. Now there was an ill-thought-out war. A perfect example of Anglo/Western hubris. It’s what happens when countries invade other countries and think it’s going to be easy. Probably every decision made in the US involvement in Vietnam turned out wrong—beginning with the horse we choose to back: a corrupt Ngo Dinh Diem to head South Vietnam a newly divided country. [Note to policy makers: partitions are not always the lasting answer to internal conflict.]

So much of the history of US involvement in Vietnam sounds familiar. But I also took away some warning signs for the present.

From the book:
“But Diem’s reputation as a miracle man rested on a shaky foundation. The massive American aid that kept him in power was a substitute for his woeful lack of public support. Members of Diem’s immediate family, devoted to their own self-interest, held key positions in his regime.”

Does this sound familiar? Recently Trump signed a law making it easier for investors to get what is called a Golden Ticket. In exchange for investing a substantial sum of money in a business and creating at least 10 permanent jobs for U.S. workers, which benefits the economy and local communities, wealthy foreigners are granted green cards by the government. The EB-5 visa. Congress just extended the program until September 30th.

The U.S. government program is again drawing scrutiny after Nicole Kushner Meyer, the sister of White House senior adviser Jared Kushner, last weekend touted the fast-track to legal status as part of a real estate pitch to Chinese investors in which her family's company has a stake. Meyer reportedly was selling investments in a New Jersey luxury apartment complex as part of an effort to raise $150 million in funding for the project.

Here is an example of a corrupt government: where officials use policy to personally benefit. And, why can’t a potential terrorist just buy a visa and enter the States. Osama Bin Laden’s Saudi family owned a multi-billion dollar construction company with international contracts including the US—today they could buy a visa for Osama.

Furthermore, now there’s this:

Now there’s a black hole where already countless civilians and over 8,000 troops have been killed and close to 500 billion sunk. The Soviets couldn’t occupy and neither could the British (The First Anglo-Afghan War  also known as the great disaster was fought between British imperial India and the Emirate of Afghanistan from 1839 to 1842. The war is famous for the loss of 4,500 British and Indian soldiers, plus 12,000 of their camp followers).


Does history teach us nothing?

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

REI Shopping Trip


I have thunder thighs. Always have. Albeit there have been times when I’ve been thinner (than I am now). But, still, nothing deserving a double XL.

I’m talking here about rain pants.

Last weekend I rode my bike back from Kalamazoo, MI. Yes, that weekend. The one with all the rain and flash flooding. I took along with me some L.L. Bean wind pants that I’d coated with water repellant. And also a pair of PVC rain pants acquired new 30 years ago. During a milky downpour I was amazed at the breathability of the PVC pants. I looked down to see that the seams had opened. ALL the seams. Basically I was riding in rubberized flaps.

I changed into the Bean pants that after 5 minutes stuck to my skin, soaking wet.

Some readers might remember before my JOGLE, riding from the top of the UK to Land’s End, I’d purchased a fairly pricey pair of Showerspass rain pants. These were advertised to be waterproof and breathable—to a point. For instance not when riding a bike, what they were designed to do. I got wetter wearing them than leaving them in my pack. At one point I thought I’d wear them to walk through tall wet grass to the pub and still they gathered condensation inside. Before returning them I shook them out to repack them for mailing and drips of water flew out.

So I went shopping at REI, an exercise in humility. And logic.

Of course people who shop here are active, athletic, or else want to look like it. I lost weight just looking for a sales clerk. I’d picked out a pair of rain pants, again waterproof but I didn’t see any info on breathability. This is expensive nylon, y’all. I saw a jacket for $450 and when I found a salesperson he said let me show you a jacket for $550. Nevermind. And those pants nada, no breathability. He walked away from me.

Which got me thinking: Why sell rain pants that get you wet from the inside but keep you dry from rain? So no disrespect, when I found the guy again I asked this very question. He said for sitting around a campsite on a damp log. My head snapped off—for $75! While I was at it I asked: Why in such dark colors? Black, charcoal gray (basically light black). Cyclists need to be visible, and he said fashion. No one wants neon yellow. It made no sense=these products were being sold in the Bicycling Department.

Then he laid it out for me. Unless I want to pay $400 for Gortex I’m not going to be able to ride my bike without getting wet. Good because I didn’t want to pay a small fortune to sweat in cruise ship-size pants. I tried on one pair, then another, then another. Each another size up. The 3-way mirror told the truth, but how can I be the same size as a 360 pound 7 foot man? How can I manage to walk let alone bike 1,100 miles in 19 days up and down mountains??? A couple I met on my JOGLE even commented: How can someone as small as you do this trip? Well, apparently I’m not that small. Not if I want to sit in a saddle and move my legs comfortably with rain pants on. They need to be roomy enough to fit over my butt and a pair of padded cycling shorts.

In the end I left empty-handed and defeated.

Yes, I have thunder thighs, but they power me up and down hills and through rain and 20 – 30 mph winds.


Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Flash Memoir

NEW BOOK COMING!!

CLICK ON FOLLOW BUTTON over on the right hand side
AND RECEIVE FREE AN ADVANCE PDF OF FLASH MEMOIR: WRITING PROMPTS TO GET YOU FLASHING

Monday, May 8, 2017

Memoirous gets about 10,000 hits a month!

Memoirous gets about 10,000 hits a month!

I want to say thank you and encourage all my readers to BUY my books. If just one in 100 of you buy a book (or books), then I will . . . I was never good at math, but I like the sound of 1 in 100! 

I'm about to release FLASH MEMOIR: WRITING PROMPTS TO GET YOU FLASHING. Until then  . . .

Freeze Frame is available as an eBook for 2.99. Many of us are looking to write memories—either in the form of literary memoir or simply to record family history. This how-to book looks at memoir in small, bite-size pieces, helping the writer to isolate or freeze-frame a moment and then distill it onto paper.

365 Affirmations for the Writer, an eBook for 3.99. Writing is a journey. Every time we sit down to begin a piece or write the first chapter or the first line we are venturing into uncharted territory. 365 Affirmations for the Writer is about listening to those who have gone before us and letting them guide us with their insight, their own trials. By reading what others have said, we can survey the path before us, count the cost, and plunge ahead.

Every morning I read 365 Affirmations for the Writer by Jane Hertenstein. It's a daily shot of encouragement in the arm. http://groggorg.blogspot.com/2015/04/meet-sue-shanahan-by-suzy-leopold.html

More than affirmations there are countless writing prompts to get you started and keep you inspired.
Also check out Orphan Girl. Available as an eBook but also in paperback. Tens of thousands of homeless people walk the streets, forgotten, yet each with their own story to tell. Marie James, a 69-year-old bag lady, and a frequent guest at an inner-city mission in Chicago, sat with Jane Hertenstein through the summer of 1995 and recorded this shocking and moving story of life filled with sorrow, loss, mental instability, and hope. Her memoir will break one's heart, yet encourage and inspire. -- "Harrowing inside view of homelessness", -- Publishers Weekly, August 11, 1997

Also available through:

Smashwords

Apple

Baker & Taylor Blio

Baker-Taylor Axis360

Barnes & Noble

Diesel

Flipkart

Gardners Extended Retail

Gardners Library

Inktera (formerly Page Foundry)

Kobo

Library Direct

Odilo

OverDrive

Oyster

Scribd

Sony

Tolino

txtr

Yuzu

Friday, May 5, 2017

Sneak Peek=new cover reveal

COMING SOON!

available from Amazon and Smashwords

Apple
Baker & Taylor Blio
Baker-Taylor Axis360
Barnes & Noble
Diesel
Flipkart
Gardners Extended Retail
Gardners Library
Inktera (formerly Page Foundry)
Kobo
Library Direct
Odilo
OverDrive
Oyster
Scribd
Sony
Tolino
txtr
Yuzu

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Attention Equals Life=Andrew Epstein

Attention Equals Life
Andrew Epstein

I’m more than halfway through Attention Equals Life by Andrew Epstein, also the blogmaster at https://newyorkschoolpoets.wordpress.com/, where he explores the connections between poetry, attention, and the everyday/period between the 1950s and 1970s.

The first few pages are devoted to distractions. Today, more than ever, it is almost impossible to focus because of the influx of media and advertising. Yeah, I hate it too. The technology I turned to a few years ago to avoid commercials is now saturated with them. Pandora, YouTube, Facebook. And, what’s worse, the commercials look like content!

So even if you are paying attention it does almost no good. We’re faked out by fake news, alt facts, and reality TV stars in the White House.

Andrew specializes on the New York School (of poets) where—and I think he’ll agree with me—the poets of the New School were easily unashamedly distracted.

Here is one of my favorite pictures:

Frank O'Hara, John Button, James Schuyler, and Joe LeSueur, 1960. Photo by John Button.
Watching TV 

Distractions only made Frank O’Hara MORE engaged. He loved to fly off to the ballet and the symphony. He listened to the radio. He tuned into the news: The Day Lady Died, Poem [Lana Turner has collapsed!] He poeticized brand names, names of streets, the places he shopped or stopped off to buy cigarettes: references to Park Avenue, Times Square, Pennsylvania Station, liver sausage sandwiches, the Five Spot, the Seagram Building, the opening of the American Folk Art Museum, the New York Post, and much more. His friends: in “Personal Poem,” he recounts his lunch with Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones), “Chez Jane,” “Jane Awake”=Jane Freilicher. “A Step Away From Them” references Edwin Denby, Federico Fellini, the Armory Show, and Pierre Reverdy, and New York locations like Juliet’s Corner and the Manhattan Storage Warehouse. He talks about his friends Jackson Pollock, John Latouche, and Bunny Lang who have died and says, “Is the earth as full as life was full, of them?” Acts of consumption were part of his everyday art. Coca Cola! I’m pretty sure if alive today he’d be on Twitter and Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, and what else?

He loved being connected socially. There are not a few paintings and photographs of him talking on the telephone.

HE WAS PAYING ATTENTION. He couldn’t walk down the street, watch TV, or eat a sandwich without taking note of it.


So as you hop on the subway to go downtown and pull out your phone—memo yourself a few lines, a minute couplet, an observation. Then go ahead and check your feed.

Monday, May 1, 2017

Post-Trump


You see I’m in such a hurry to get it over with I’m already speculating on what a post-Trump age will look like. Philosophically speaking, because all that carnage he eluded to in his inauguration speech will be the world post-Trump ie bad laws, bad water, bad leaders, people afraid, hiding, stockpiling=all these descriptions might actually apply to a Trump administration.

Some people are coping by tuning out—ie avoiding the news, the Internet (which might be good since Trump wants to rip it out: Dec 8, 2015 - Donald Trump has called for a shutdown of the Internet in certain areas to stop the spread of terror. ... He recommended a discussion with Bill Gates to shut off parts of the Internet.) I have friends who range on the scale of Internet use from Neanderthal to Little House on the Prairie. They simply have decided they’re going to have nothing to do with Facebook, the news, the TV, radio . . . . and go live in the woods of New Hampshire—where I’m sure they still can get the Internet.

In other words, they’ve chosen not to be engaged. How does that really work?

That might work for a certain generation ie retirees, snowbirds, the super-rich preparing for total collapse in bunkers. But what about Generation Z, the Millennials, the ones who are going to inherit the “carnage”?

If you were born after 9/11 you are totally screwed.

What have you got: fake news, fake facts, climate change deniers, post post modernism, aka Post-Trump—a place beyond surreal, a place where you have to ask is that fact true or not, is this reality, virtual, or something else? You actually tip your hand that you are an oldster if you think there is such a thing as truth. That measuring stick is long gone.

Even I’m beginning to sound like Steve Bannon. Ugh!

I’d like to propose a joyful resistance, the kind of engagement that rallies hope.

But, you may be asking, isn’t that also a type of denial, of not living in reality (once we can figure out whose reality). Listen, I know we’ve all been let down. I can still vividly recall the utter betrayal, the disappointment, the stages of grief I moved through (and am still working on) when Hillary lost. She was supposed to win. Everyone told us she was going to win. Or at least they told us Trump was going to lose.

The shocking reversal has re-set the planet and told us that things/life/what’s happening now is not what we thought. That the unbelievable (as in grotesque) can happen. This is also post-Trump—questioning, everything.

I totally get why Millennials have decided to go back and re-read Harry Potter, reach for the familiar. Just don’t forget to be brave, to fight for what’s right, to stand up for those weaker than you are, use your voice. We’re counting on you. Make memes. Create art. Write that novel. Do stand-up comedy.

Here are some links to art post-Trump, resistance and protest art that have popped up:

One of the best examples of I’ve seen so far of art imitating life, in fact it was art and in fact it was life, verbatim:  An exact transcript of Trump introducing Black History month, satire at McSweeneys.

And most recently