Barbara Kruger

ignorance has won. and all the spines attached to it. such a constant posssibility that we did not want to accept and kept trying to avoid. the prick. the intense pain of the prick. prickly pain. it is here. deal with it. life shall never be the same in these fragmented states of america. the same as what. what is the fear of knowing what we are. what we really are, not what we think we are.

i rembember this well. who what when where. in 1984 i drove an hour west after the Reagan landslide was already called. i drove to vote where i was registered, west. of the city. the big urban refuge from that scary silent minority that had screamed. oh go west, young woman, go. to vote for Mondale/Ferraro. the first male-female presidential ticket. ever. in 1984. history biting my ass, my big wide cuban democratic ass. and as i drove the radio echoed our defeat. and i, and she for there must always be a she along, drove west running on faith. for democracy. our right, knowing it was all lost, but i had to cast that vote. lost for that moment. then, so long ago, the past. i drove west. fast, screaming and screeching. and now. ignorance has won. so many votes not casted. or casted in vain. and nowhere to drive. such ignorance of the old, and the new. such waste of youth.

for nothing worse than ignorance. feeding sexism, racism, homophobia in small minds. tiny little minds with the right to vote. to defy history, to repeat mistakes. ah, rebellious refusal to learn from the cycles of the wheel. such wastefulness in youth, our idealistic slide in the sadness of time. el tiempo, el implacable. so let's burn in misguided rebelliousness and not vote or vote down the drain, knowing that it won't count. but IT was our right. to vote. a mi manera. hice lo que quise, sin pensar. pensar en todo. lo demás. los demás. la demasía de no ser yo, ego.

in 1984. the pain, it was a passing pain with time on my side, tic-tac time. today there's no such time for mistakes, not for me, not for anybody else. not even for the boasting crowds celebrating today. not even for the fools justifying their poor choices in egovolátiles... i have the right. self before country, our country. land of the free, sort of. not the best, not the ideal. but ours. for now. and here we are. on the brink. of a big ism. and we shall fall. popul. of da pipol for da pipol. pipolism populista. we all are in this fall. rolling stones in the abyss. going, going. gone. too late to lament. 

om ulloa

a los errores incautos de los mentecatos. perdonados sean porque no saben lo que han hecho. por ignorantes, tan a sabiendas sin embargo, que "la ignorancia mata a los pueblos."  (josé martí)

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