A Human Life Ain’t Worth Much

This becomes especially clear when you start listening to the actions of the people who go on about the sanctity of life.

The men, duly sworn to represent their communities, who buy pearls to clutch so they can mock the women and the children who are fighting for gun control, who fight with blood and vigor and tears, so maybe we can make up one day this year and not have a mass shooting somewhere in this country.

The Speaker of the House, who doesn’t believe in pushing forward with a Green New Deal or impeaching the most corrupt president to ever be sworn into the leadership of the company. The third most powerful person in the federal government, who instead of dropping some money on some extra lawyers or investigators, has a crack team of merch designers creating a “Nancy clapback” tote-bag.

By God, her scathing applause sure stopped The Donald dead in his tracks. He hasn’t been able to do anything since.

The corrupt business conman, working with The Donald to destroy the Republic, who was sentenced to serve less jail time than the man in the next courtroom over, whose only crime was having a joint in his pocket. He’s serving life, Paul Manafort will be out in less than a decade.

The millions of people who believe in the ineffectual racist symbolism of a gigantic boarder wall, who care more about “the wall” than the millions of people dying at the borders, willing to risk everything for the marginally-better life they’ll find in America.

The Christians, who kiss the racist conman’s ass, who cleave to the prosperity gospel and dress their Jesus up like a white man in a cheap three-piece suit. The Christians who point at people who didn’t have their opportunities, who didn’t have their silver spoons, and scowl and point and say “maybe if you stop sinning, Jesus will love and bless you, too.”

Forget about the We The People who are going to die, while we argue in circles about Medicaid for All, The Green New Deal, raising the Minimum Wage. Because any times somebody suggests that we blunt the razor-edge of Capitalism’s cruelty in the name of compassion, we’ve got to say “Wait, hold on a second, that sound too much like Communism to me!”

Forget about the We The People who will work themselves to death for a poverty wage.

Forget about the We the Thousands of hard-working poor and middle class kids who lost their spot at a dream college and a better life after years of hard work, because “Aunt Becky” decided to drop half a million dollars to get her daughter into college. The fact that they were able to sign their names on a piece of paper and walk out of the jail house, leaving behind millions of people who will be imprisoned tonight, without being formally charged with a crime, just because they don’t have that sweet, sweet Full House and Hallmark money.

Forget about the We The People who will sell themselves into bondage to big banks just to put food on the table.

Forget about the We The People who will die without insulin, without wellbutrin, without surgery, without chemotherapy. The ones who, when the pharmacist asks “your money or your life” choose to put their loved ones first.

Forget about the We The People who will die while centrist Democrats spend more time worrying about kissing the bald-faced ass of Republican evil than about protecting their poor constituents, the ones who can’t afford facetime at the $500,000-a-plate grip-n-grin chicken dinners.

Forget about the We The People who froze on park benches during the last Polar Vortex. Forget about the We The People who will freeze on park benches during the next Polar Vortex.

Forget the We The People who will die as a result of incremental change.

Just swallow fact that we accept all of this as a normal part of America. It’s a joke. Rich white people gonna rich white people. That’s just how the world goes, and the sooner you accept it, the better off you’ll be.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

It never had to be this way.

Stop talking to me about the sanctity of life.

(He/They) Ninja Writer. Thespian. Queer. Essayist, poet, novelist. “In Search of Sunflowers” available on Kindle now.

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