Pray, Representative, for the courage to return your NRA bribes.

by Mae Currell

I’ve nothing really comforting or bracing or funny to say. All I can think of to describe the flapping overwhelm I’m experiencing is Paul Simon’s Graceland.

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

But then I realize, not everybody does feel the wind blow from this. Some people are still screaming for MORE GUNS to protect us from Bad People With Guns. And Congress puppets send out their stupid fucking pointless “thoughts and prayers,” which is – spoiler alert – code for

I am a colossal coward and I value my own paycheck and cushy health insurance policy and expense account and vacation days way more than the flimsy Constitution – because hey! it’s OLD and barely legible, and hardly relevant and anyway, they’re applying it to women and people of color these days (gross.) Obvs I value my own comfort way more than the Common Fools in this “Democracy,” so I will take the NRA bribe money and I will pay lip service to the grief and the loss and distract the Common Fools by deflection and whatever else is convenient. GOD BLESS!

 

I very much doubt that you are praying when you’re done tweeting. I very much doubt you are still enough internally to actually pray. I very much doubt your soul is intact enough to have an experience of what you call “God the Father.”

But here’s the thing about Spirit – it’s possible that you do have some sort of conscience. You are redeemable, so fucking redeem yourself and pray for something real.

Pray for the courage to be your own person again. Pray for the love of humanity to enter your experience, and for your lust for power to lessen. You are in the only real hell. That’s why you’re so paranoid. Pray for another way.

The Dead Children

After Sandy Hook, I thought we’d see some change. I remember hearing the news while holding my 2-year-old daughter at the counter of my local farm store where I bought my eggs and sausage.

The farmer told me about it, and time seemed to slow waaaaaay down, and the sunlight got bright, and I asked her if she was sure. First-graders and teachers. Was she sure? My mother was a first-grade teacher. I imagined if that had been her school. But I didn’t need that to make me care. These were children.

And Congress did nothing. And people accused the bereaved parents of being fakers, actors.

When we allow our children to be murdered at school, we have abdicated our moral duty. Period.

It’s heavily depressing and depressing and depressing and depressing when nothing happens to move the needle toward – I dunno – decency.

The only certain antidote is beauty beauty beauty.

Connecting with living beings (people, animals, dandelions,) observing natural beauty, and allowing those feelings of admiration and wonder to fucking penetrate your experience.

We have to love the world, no matter how people try to hijack it.

The NRA Delusion

So today I decided to see what the NRA had to say in the wake of the Las Vegas massacre. I visited the official NRA Facebook page. Thought maybe I’d come across – something? Some hollow prayers, perhaps?

Silence. No mention.

So I scrolled through their page.

These people are clearly disturbed, locked into a phase of arrested development. Here’s a screenshot:

Screen Shot 2017-10-03 at 12.06.30 PM

Sure, it’s the only way!

If you’re an unimaginative, paranoid person  with the reasoning capacities of a 10-year-old.

THIS IS WHY WE HAVE LAWS, FOOLS.

Congress, get real or get out.

 

 

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