“Power can be taken, but not given. The process of the taking is empowerment in itself.”

That’s Gloria Stienem.

Darlings, The government we’re under encourages and stirs up devisions between us all, and we become too blinded by our differences(real and imaginary) to see the transformation of an attempted Democracy into a fascist regime. This is not new or particulaly clever, the lies are just less covert,lazier,dumber.

There is no attempt made at faking honesty now. Satire is more honest than any a state of the Union Address,but that is usually the case.

This is not normal. Repeat with me, love. This is not normal. We are skipping towards fascism, and I’d encourage you to stop the thinking “if the dems can blah, armpit fart noise, things will change.” There’s no ‘Left” left. It is centrist garbage,and when people say otherwise, they’re labeled as divisive. The parties are nearly the same. Are we One country, undivisible, or snarling dogs that feast on the on scraps under tables and die crushed by medical debt, blaming the party we aren’t aligned with? Have we forgotten the power should be in our hands? Did we ever believe we had it? Black men are powerless before a system created to oppress them, women have only had any Real political power since the mid-60s IF THAT,and really, we’re still nearly voiceless. Our lives are in the hands of men who have only their own best interest at heart.

Jack weinberg said “never trust anyone over thirty” and Revolution belongs to the younger. Thirty used to mean a stable income, a care, a home, a family. Thirty is just as hungry as twenty, now. Revolution belongs to those who fight the past with fresh ideas. Generation Z, I’m with you. It’s you that can wrench this country from the hands of decrepit old white men. And we, the mellenians, we’ve read the books, tuned in and dropped out and taken tear gas for the right to choose, the right to occupy public spaces and fight for the rights of all genders. We missed our childhoods and the Crash left us underemployed and forever fighting the man, and now we are an army of men and women with backs like old women from hard work and no health care. We listened to the writings of the reformers before us, because we sought them out. We wrote now revolutionary texts. We have more responsibility to changing this country because we have the anger being a generation of Lost Boys, baristas with highest education,bartender and vigilantes, forever renting and crushed by debt and witnessing the death rattle of the American dream. We support you, the ones just now 16,18, younger. Rewrite the morals, rectify the nation. Run for office. Win. It’ll be rough, but metamorphosis always is.

I am the grandchild of immigrants who were rounded up like dogs by regimes the people supported. My blood boils and remembers things my mind can’t. The blood always knows. It bubbles inside you with generational rage that the ghosts of our mass-graved dead hear from across the ocean, or rumbles in forgotten mounds all across this united country built on the white bones of the original owners.

(Can a stolen country stand on bones so long before it crumbles)

This is the country my grandparents warned would come,and I will fight division and lies with vision and unity, education and planned protest,art and love,and when the need arise, I will fight the way the time calls for. Every act of love is defiance. Every kindness is a blow to fascist control. Sometimes, actual blows are what is needed. Wait for the time for that, however. Control is stronger than fervour. The Revolution can be digital. Organization is stronger than riots.

Satire is powerful, and mind expansion is a tool to mental freedom. Never let them tell you what to think,or how. There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception, belive that.

One nation, indivisible. Call whatever gods you want, that’s your choice. Mostly, hail yourself.

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Gambrinus

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Sitting on a park bench in front of Gambrinus, a little blonde boy tosses a tiny Yorkie in my direction and in doing so pulls my eyes away from a little bird , presumably shitting in the grass. The little boy seems to have done so in an effort to get a bit of attention and a laugh out of me. He gets both.

I’ve been all over the city centre of Pilzen the past few days, and I’ve just consumed my first vegan meal since being here: I’m a , but I lean heavily vegan. A dearth of vegetables is hard on my ethical sensibilities as well as my digestive system. The food servings here are large, even by American Standards, the food all lovely and warm and mostly meat and potatoes, artfully arranged.

We’ll be here until Friday morning’s check out, then headed to Prague. I’d love to sit and write more about the general experience and I will, but right now I’m watching.

I learn more from sitting around in squares and observing and walking around watching people than I do from most other things, and this has been genuinely fantastic observation.

If you’re interested in photos of random travel things, follow me on Insta @blacksquirrelwytch

Ciao