When I was in elementary school, I belonged to an organization called Future Problem Solving Program International. Elementary school students were given a problem that might affect their community and they had several months to brainstorm solutions, and present their best researched, most creative solution to the problem. I went ALL IN to this group. There were five or six of us in the group, and I don’t remember the name or face of a single other person. All I remember is the moment when all my optimism and enjoyment of the concept of solving problems was replaced with the rage of UNFARINESS when we lost to the team that hosted the regional finals.

The problem we fourth or fifth graders were given to solve was: Acid Rain. It was the eighties and industry was as uninterested in helping our environment as they are now but society hadn’t yet guilted them into pretending they cared about anything but profits. Nobody was making rainbow versions of their logos for Pride Month, promoting diverse members of their staff during Black History Month or Womens’ Month or AAIPI Month, and nobody was telling you that you could cure the environment by using fewer plastic straws while they dumped thousands of tons of unbiodegradable waste into the ocean. They had slogans like “Coal. Fuck you, we’ve been killing children for generations, why do you suddenly care now?” and “The Republican Party. AIDS is a faggot disease. We miss slavery.”

I don’t remember any of the other schools’ specific solutions to the problem acid rain presented to their communities. I just remember they were all pretty similar. They involved talking with companies, making regulations for environmental impact. A few suggested mild protesting, and one even made potential protest signs. There were three or four schools that I thought might win. The fake sign school was my pick if we lost. But I couldn’t imagine us losing. Everyone else’s ideas were focused on getting companies to change their habits to help the environment. We had gone in a very different direction.

I can no longer find the research that supports this theory but I promise you it was real. In the mid-1980s, there was an experiment in wetlands that found that certain species of birds had something in their feces that reduced the acidity in water. So wetlands with higher percentages of these birds, the one I remember being The Black Backed Gull, had much lower acid levels in the ponds and rivers they lived near. So we came up with a program that bred these birds, who didn’t have large populations at the time and who didn’t have a noticeably negative impact on the environment, and made sure there were ample nesting areas for them.

Looking back at this, as an adult, I appreciate our creativity but I can also see why the judges weren’t super excited about our Save The Water Supply By Adding Bird Shit campaign. But, y’all there’s already bird shit in that water. What’s a little more, if we want less acid rain? These judges didn’t know that this solution was so, pardon me, Bird Shit Crazy that it was So Debunked by the 2020s that The Internet, which no one could have conceived of in 198whatever, didn’t even record the study’s existence.

During the competition, however, I was convinced we would win. We had spent so much time researching this, and we learned how to convince adults of this study because it took FOREVER to convince our adult coach to let us follow through with this idea. For some reason.

I really thought there were only two threats, the team that had fake protesting signs, and the school that had done the best job, imo, presenting the same Let’s Just Talk It Out And Make Sensible Environmental Laws tactic. Well, that team came in third. The fake protesting sign team came in second. We had done it. We had …

I don’t remember what school hosted this event. Let’s call it Privileged Cheaters Academy. Well, PCA didn’t just win this event, they won by a landslide. The score differential between second and third place was a hoarse whisper, Privileged Cheaters Academy won by an Air Raid Siren. And they were not graceful winners. One of the winning kids flipped off the second place school’s coach and was chastised in the mildest way possible.

I was sour. It only got worse when all of the scores were released. We’d come in last place. Not only had we lost to homefield advantage, every team that had presented the same bland Play Nice And The Law Will Make Acid Rain Completely Disappear In A Few Decades had positively annihilated our Bird Shit solution.
​
Shortly after the scores were posted, a local journalist took pictures of all the teams from some newspaper. They printed all of them. Even ours. Our picture, which showed one carefree, blonde adult, three or four smiling children with unmemorable faces, and me, wearing the tear-stained scowl of a super villain engineering his first Death Ray in his head.

​Found in the basement of a house I looked at.  Inside this Russian Doll are Clinton,  Bush Sr, Reagan, and Carter.

I do a basic search for the item I'm looking for. I find a store that I'm previously unfamiliar with, or that has a style I tend to like. (I don't use Amazon. Jeff Bezos can suck a rusty tailpipe.) 

I scroll through the first page of the results and see some interesting things. 

Page two is less interesting but a similar style.

Page three is Incredibly American Patriotic. Like, Stars And Stripe Hard Hats (which, ok, if you're still able to feel patriotic for America in 2020, you probably sustain frequent head injuries), Bald Eagle Freedom Belt Buckles, Red White And Blue Tie-Dyed Hoodies. I know businesses got to do what businesses got to do to stay in business but the tacky American Nationalism shit needs to Stop.

Because page four? All Native American and "Aztec" designs. M'dudes, American Nationalism literally kills the people who created these designs and motifs. If you're wearing a Stars And Stripes hard hat as part of your day, you are almost definitely complicit in the removal of Central and Southern American children from their parents, complicit in stealing Native American land so you can half-assedly bury leaking oil pipes there. You want to wear an approximation of their heritage while you destroy their culture? You Sick Fuck.

I don't even get to page five. Now I have to look up a new store, and that completely non-patriotic looking jacket I was thinking of buying? Nah. I can probably find something similar on another site. And even if it's slightly more expensive, I'd rather give my business to a website/store with ugly plaid, stupid inspirational t-shirts, and beer stein hats than that Page Three and Four crap.

Now I have to go rethink my entire closet.

​(This isn't intended as a Look At Me I'm So Progressive post, but a Fuck. Is My Entire Generic Looking Wardrobe Secretly Some Sort Of Colonizing Racist Dogwhistle Collection?)

​I have lightly ribbed my father over his embrace of Pandemic Socialism (he gets his food from the local high school. instead of buying his own groceries). But, for the most part we don't discuss his politics because they've decayed to terrible in recent years.

Today, he called, telling me about how his friends and neighbors hadn't received their stimulus checks, and he hadn't received his, and how he didn't understand what was taking so long. And, lo, last Friday a stimulus check arrived in his PO box, and he bragged to all of his more liberal neighbors about how Fecalface Sucksatgolf was making sure the people who supported him got their stimulus checks first (as if he could somehow now).

You, Dear Reader, may have figured out that it was Not his stimulus check, but was in fact, My finger-on-nose, Clinton-voting stimulus check that arrived because that was the address I filed my 2018 taxes from last year.

A few of his neighbors have since received theirs. His has not yet arrived.

My dad listens to talk radio in the car, on our way back from the Portguese American club, where he goes on a regular basis, despite not being of Portugese descent.

Racist White Lady: I want to thank you and ICE for your service protecting our fine country from terrorists. The illegals keep killing people. And there are no reprecussions for them. They just go to to sanctuary cities, and hide, like cowards.

Me: That's not the way sanctuary cities work. If you commit a crime: murder, embezzlement, drunk driving, illegal gambling, you still go to jail, or get deported. You just don't get arrested for existing.

My Dad: I want to hear what she has to say.

RWL: All our money goes to paying for illegals to get health insurance and drivers licenses. Meanwhile, all our homeless veterans are freezing to death on the streets.

Me: This lady should start volunterring at homeless shelters. Maybe donate some money to some veterans' institutions. No one is stopping her from supporting our homeless veterans but herself.

Dad: But our money keeps going to help illegals.

Me: No. Our money keeps going to Jeff Bezos and Zuckerberg, and Trump, and all of those other people who don't pay their employees health insurance or a living wage. Who stiff the people like you and me, who actually work for a living, so that they can afford to play golf on one of the courses attached to one of the dozen hotels they own.

Dad: That's captalism.

Me: IT DOESN'T WORK. I work thirty-five hours a week for a guy that doesn't pay my health insurance, and who owes me seven and a half months of back pay. Capitalism sucks.

Dad: Why don't you work 40 hours a week?

Me: Because the people who own businesses schedule people so that they don't have to pay their health care, because they're greedy shitheads who can't actually afford to support their business while also living the lifestyle they think they've earned.

Dad: But why should my money --

Me: NO ONE WANTS YOUR MONEY. You're not wealthy. Trump has never climbed a telephone pole to restore electricity. Rush Limbaugh has never spent an hour trying to help a depressed mom find a cheap graphic novel to help her son learn to love reading. Tucker fucken Carlson has never volunteered his time for Big Brothers/ Big Sisters Of America. They SUCK. They don't care about you or your money unless it's going to them, personally. They hate you. They hate me. They even hate my boss. Why do you keep listening to a bunch of White Nationalist Assholes who want you dead?

Dad: We can agree to disagree.

Me: No. You are protecting the people who steal from you, and redirecting your anger at people that they are trying to murder. This isn't "which type of music do you like?" The people you're listening to for life lessons are actively starting a class and race war against the people who would actually help you if you were in trouble. If you're tied to a railroad track, and a train is coming, who do you think is going to help you? A person who, like your great-grandparents, came over to this counyry to escape terrorists and poverty, or a smug, shitbag in a bowtie who tells you all Mexicans are drug dealing rapists?

Dad: Why do we argue about this every time we get in the car?

Me: Because you don't listen to music anymore, you listen to wealthy white guys who've never worked a day in their lives, who try to tell you that people who work 40-60 hours a week for a non-liveable wage are somehow the enemy just because they didn't wait twenty years to get a bunch of paperwork signed by the same people exploiting them for work by not paying them enough!

Dad: Can we agree that religion is our enemy?

Me: YES. But note how all those Christians that you don't like are supporting the media and President that you support. Isn't that, like A Giant Red Flag to you that these people are full of shit?

​My dad turn the radio to the oldies station.

​Random Customer, upon purchasing a couple of back issues: "The demise of Mad Magazine has to be the saddest news of the year."

Completely Correct Teenage Daughter: "Really, Dad? The saddest news of THIS year? I want you to think about that. Because if that's your opinion, I'm never talking to you again."

RC: "The saddest publishing news."

CCTD: "No. The saddest publishing news is that the media is filled with a bunch of Nazi-enabling cowards."

​The rest of the transaction took place in Absolute Silence.

Republicans can chatter all they want about how The Current Administration has improved our economy, but both banks I visit regularly have stopped offering free pens this year, and started chaining the ones they have to various counters.

​That doesn't fill me with optimism.

While my coworker gets to deal with the very nice botanist looking for comics involving plants, her...partner?..sidekick?..antagonistic wingman? comes to the counter and pretends to steal the sandwich I'm eating for lunch.

Fuckhead: "You've been working in comics for a long time, huh?"

Me: "Sure."
​
FH: "What do you think about how Marvel is destroying comics with leftist politics?"

Me: "By destroying, you mean increasing sales and bringing more people into comics?"

FH: "Sure, sales, fine, whatever. But you're a purist like me, right?"

Me: "You want to keep reading the same stories with the same characters who never change over and over for forty years?"

FH: "No, but just making a character a woman or whatever" Reminder: 'or whatever' is a reference to when Captain America was Sam Wilson, who is Black, that is literally always what ugly ass middle age white guys with bad haircuts mean when they say 'or whatever', so if you ever hear an ugly ass middle age white guy say 'or whatever', kick him in the dick until he can't rape-roduce again. "it doesn't make the stories interesting, you know?"

Me: "Jason Aaron has been writing Thor for about a decade now. He wrote some kind of okay stories about Odinson Thor, but the most interesting part of his run was when Jane Foster became Thor. She was battling cancer, and every time she picked up the hammer and became Thor, it undid all of her chemotherapy. Eventually, it killed her, and now Odinson is Thor again."

FH: "That sounds really creative. But I see a lot of stories on websites about..."

Me: "Every person who writes articles about how diversity is ruining comics is too fucken stupid to think critically. Marvel has been 'pushing leftist politics' since they introduced the X-Men in 1963, since Steve Rogers punched Hitler in 1941. People who write about leftist politics destroying comics are moronic trolls with zero friends, and no concept of history. They don't read the books they bash, they just reminisce about how they imagined things were when they were kids and still had hopes that anyone would ever find them lovable. But those people don't have friends, and no matter how much money they spend on comics, no comic book store employee has ever liked them or wanted them in their store."

FH: "That's interesting. I guess I'll let you get back to eating your lunch."

Me: "Thanks."

After a Very Long Day Of Work, Owen Grey stopped by the store and asked if I would like to go out for drinks. Like a fool who'd never been to Cambridge before, I said yes.

After our first round of drinks, I mentioned watching Stargate.

Owen: "Did you hear about Patrick Stewart coming back to Star Trek?"

Me: "Yes, I--"

Really Entitled Guy: "I have feelings about Patrick Stewart."

Me: "Of course."

REG: "As someone who went to Harvard..."

Oh No.

REG: "But who dropped out. I'm not An Elitist."

OH NO.

REG: "I am a waiter at a Corporate Restaurant, and I could have been A Manager..."

O H N O O O O O O O O O O O

REG: "but I don't believe in corporate bullshit. But My Manager asked me who my favorite President was. I asked 'Can I pick two?' but he said..."

PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOO

REG: "So I picked LBJ. People only associate him with Vietnam. And, ok, he is responsible for the murder of hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese, but people forget he did a lot of good domestically. I went to Harvard.."

W h a t h a p p e n e d t o P i c a r d?

REG: "and My Manager is smart, but...you look Smart."

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

REG: "I'm a little drunk. Sorry. But, I grew up in Boston. And I'm Working Class."

Both Owen and I make eye contact with the shame-filled bartender long enough to get another round while he waxes pendantic.

REG: "Obama was ok. But people forget that Clinton promised the Rust Belt jobs, so when.." LOTS OF RACISM HAPPENS "...The Rust Belt said..." SO MUCH MORE RACISM "I'm not racist but" AN INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION OF RACISM "Which is why Trump won. Now, I'm Gay, but, and I don't tell Most People this" BECAUSE I'M A RACIST "but I voted for Mitt Romney" BECAUSE I'M A RACIST "And I say this as a Jew" which he almost definitely was not "whose mother is a Catholic" which is more likely "but I dated one of The Twelve" which is not impossible but fairly unikely "so I know to vote Mormon..." AN EVER EXPANDING UNIVERSE OF RACISM "Sorry, I'm prosteletizing."

Me: "It's fine. You've got my vote." He doesn't, but I'm very curious what's next. Aside from Round Three of Dark & Stormys.

A repetitious half hour or so passes.

REG: something something election Ohio "What's the name of the county?"

Owen lists actual counties from Ohio. Where he lived.

REG:"No. Let's call it" Not An Actual County Name "so the people there have short term electoral memory and..." RACISM RACISM CLASSISM

My mind wanders far enough away to order food and another drink.

REG: "And I'm Gay so I can say" A WORD HE IS NOT ALLOWED TO SAY EVER "and you get to go home and sleep with your beautiful boyfriend while I have to stay awake worrying about The World."

Where and Who is My Beautiful Boyfriend?

REG: "Could I have another round?"

The Bartender gives him a Gansett and a shot of Frenet. I Know This Guy.

REG: "I went to Harvard.But I'm not An Elitist. I believe when you see a Homeless Person..." he grabs my hand...THE FUCK?..."You pull the next one up." WHEN DID I END UP IN A MARC SMITH GROUP PIECE? WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY? "Every night I find a homeless person, and take them to rehab. Which I pay for."

NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Owen: "Wow."

REG: "These White People" so....us "they think of themselves as middle class, but you and me" NAAAAAAAAAAAAAH "you and me know we are more like" DON'T SAY 'THEM' "them...The" RACISM RACISM RACISM "Do you think $33/hour is better than minimum wage?" YES. IT IS. IT IS MATHEMATICALLY PROVABLE. "I was on a boat with my cousin, Ted Kennedy..."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

REG: "I wanted to talk to him about Something, but he said 'Cousin, I want to talk about Nothing. Let's just sail together.' So we did." He mimes sailing. Poorly. Like he's driving a bus but is not tall enough to see out the windshield.

Me: "The Kennedys still owe me hundreds of dollars for a catering job they never paid me for."

REG: "Where are you from?"

Me: "Sandwich."

REG:"I'm from Working Class Boston. My mom is working class, but The Kennedys....Let's just say I could wake up on a beach in Hyannisport..."

HYANNIS, YOU ELITIST PIECE OF SHIT

REG: "And it would be" *kissing sound* "I've gotta pee."

He leaves.

Owen: "Wow."

Me: "Did you notice he spent that whole time talking out of the side of his mouth?"

Owen: "I did not. Did you know he is from Boston? And Ted Kennedy was his cousin?"

Me: "No. Every time I take a drink, I do it to keep from laughing in his face."

Owen: "I want to talk about poetry."

REG returns: "Politics are poetry. The results are prose."

SHUT THE ENTIRE FUCK UP.

REG: "I said that to my roommate in boarding school."

Me: "What school?"

REG: "Why do you want to know?"

Me: "I went to Northfield Mount Hermon. I'm just curious."

REG: "Oh. The" ELITIST VOICE DIALED UP TO ELEVEN says the guy who also went to boarding school "International UN School. I went to Working Class Boarding School"

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

"at Governor's Academy."

BWAHAHAHAHA *cough cough choke cough wheeze choke* BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa *ahem*

REG:"I--"

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Working Class Boarding School BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhaahaaahaaa hoooooooooooooooooo

REG: "I---"

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA BWAAAAAAAAAHUHHH Huhhhhh hoooooooooo boy


(Note: the laughter is all in my head. But it is LOUDLY in my head. I can't look at anything but my glass or I will explode.)


REG: "Next month I'm going down to Texas..."

Owen: "Are you moving down there?"

REG: "No.I travel a lot." But I only fly Working Class. "And I'm going down there to unseat Ted Cruz. Are you familiar with Beto O'Rourke."

Me: "No."

Owen: "A little."

REG: "Really?"

Owen: "Not really."

REG: "He's Very Important."

Owen: "Like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez "
REG: "No. No." HEEAAAAAAAPING MISOGYNIST RACIST CONDESCENSION. "That's a one off. This is Real Change. New York needs another Cuomo. I'm gay." He stands up AND PUTS HIS DICK ON MY KNEE "But I'm old school."

I move my knee.

REG: "I'm going to change the world." Great. Now I'm in a Taylor Mali po----his dick is on my knee again.

I grab the check, and my credit card.

Me: "I've got to go."

REG: "Most people just watch the world change around them. But we're going to do something." He grabs my fucken hand again. "Pull the next one up. The Blacks, The Hispanics, The Jews ---"

Me: "Always."

REG: "Most people don't think about the dishwashers." FUUUUUUUUUUCK OFF. "But that's who changes the world. I'm Irish, and last century, the governors were Irish and we did it for each other." He grabs my fucken hands again. "I'm all about freedom. Except those Muslim women in burquas. I'm pretty old school about that."

We leave.

Me: "Holy fuck."

Owen: "I'm from Boston and I'm working class, and Catholic, and Jewish, and gay, and my cousin is Ted Kennedy."

Me: "I hate him So Much. After he stood up, he kept putting his dick on my knee."

Owen: "Oh no. I didn't see that."

Me: 'It didn't feel that impressive."