A Message to the Would-Be King…

We see that you’ve declared yet another war this week.

This time, you haven’t viciously attacked some distant nation whose people you’ve bombed without cause, as a reckless and deadly act of distraction.

This time, you haven’t launched a violent campaign against brown-skinned human beings, whose dehumanization you’ve trafficked in for over a decade.

This time, you haven’t brought relentless trauma to survivors of the predators and rapists, among whose numbers you find yourself.

This time, you haven’t marshaled a savage offensive on the electoral process, or trans kids, or women’s rights, or environmental protections alone.

No, this time, you’ve declared war on all of us: the Radical Left.

You see, we know it isn’t merely a political party that you’re threatened by, trying to silence, consumed with hatred for, and seeking to eradicate—it’s the American people.

It’s those of us who stand in your way; those whose knees refuse to bow and whose mouths will not regurgitate the curated praise of sycophants and cult members that you bathe your eggshell ego in.

It’s students of history who know a failing, flailing wannabe dictator in a death spiral when they see one, and who have no interest in kissing the ring, shutting our mouths, or quietly complying.

It’s people of conscience who’ve courageously served, fought, bled, and suffered for this nation to defeat fascism on foreign shores, and who damn well aren’t going to allow it to thrive here.

It’s generations of activists and allies who decades ago braved water cannons, beatings, and arrests so that every human being could be afforded the dignity they deserve, and that you would deny them.

It’s people of true and abiding faith who refuse to allow you to make a mockery of a God you have never sought, a Jesus you have contempt for, and a religion you drape yourself in to cover your wickedness.

It’s human beings of every pigmentation, orientation, nation of origin, religious tradition, and political affiliation who will not allow a Temu authoritarian to write the epitaph for our 250-year republic.

We are all the Radical Left.

And you, you teetering, jittery lame duck, dollar store despot, have declared war on all decent, law-abiding people here, and we’re to tell you that you cannot win.

You are the enemy of the people, of We The People,” the fierce, unwieldy multitude whose presence here is your greatest remaining obstacle.

And so we declare war on you.

You’ll see us gather by the millions this weekend, filling city streets, highway overpasses, city parks, parking lots, and neighborhood sidewalks, declaring our collective opposition. We will stand together as a defiant army of sustained resistance, unlike anything this nation has ever witnessed.

But rest assured, we’ll be there well after the sun sets on that day.

We will be in our neighborhoods, outnumbering the masked monsters you deploy to terrorize and brutalize.

We will be in our communities, feeding, clothing, and caring for one another, protecting the most vulnerable whom you so gladly prey upon.We’ll be organizing in our communities to support candidates, monitor the polls, and protect people whose voices you are working so hard to silence.

We’ll be relentlessly hounding the compromised lawmakers and public servants who would discard their oaths and abdicate their responsibilities just to please you.

We’ll be everywhere your cultic disciples show up to let them know that they are part of a miserable minority that will not prevail.

And believe us when we tell you that we will defeat you and we will outlast you.

When you leave the office or this planet, whichever comes first, we will be here to rebuild what you have broken, to heal all that you have injured, to tear your name from every place you have defiled with it, and to course-correct from the greatest collective error in our nation’s history.

And so today, we, the Radical Left, raise a defiant middle finger, we spit on the ground in front of you, we defy your will, and we piss on your crown.

The kingdom is crumbling, and where we find ourselves, the king is already dead.

He has no home here.

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