![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This is not a happy, fluffy collage this week. You have been warned.
I did not watch the inauguration and I haven't read much news. But I have picked up bits and pieces on social media about the flurry of activity/executive orders that the returning President has launched since resuming office.
Look. I freely admit that I have a side picked in this fight, and I'm not going to apologize for it. This week's collage, I trust, makes my point of view clear. Don't bother telling me, as Rob did on election night the first time he was elected, that it won't be that bad and that I'm overreacting.
They also told us that Roe v. Wade would never be overturned, and look what happened.
Nor do I find it easy to be sanguine about this. I just cannot. I have two daughters of reproductive age, one of whom is gay. I have trans friends. I believe strongly in racial reconciliation, environmental protection, strong public health, equal rights for women, assistance to the needy, fiscal responsibility, ethical government, and welcoming immigrants--all things that I think it is safe to say this administration opposes.
From what I can tell from his initial orders this first week, the current head of the executive branch wants people to be afraid. The flurry of executive orders that have emerged from the White House are DESIGNED to enrage and terrify people like me. It is a known propaganda policy of fascist governments: overwhelm with shock and awe so there is no resistance to the strong arm of the state. So how does one respond?
I thought about the sign over the gates of Hell in Dante's Inferno: "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here." That, of course, is exactly what Trump wants: for people like me to feel hopeless and helpless and afraid.
Yet, even knowing how grim the next four years will be, I need to resist that demand for hopelessness, both for my own sanity and as an ethical stance. I saw a portion of the sermon that the Right Rev. Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde preached in the National Cathedral to Trump and his cronies, appealing to him to show mercy to those who were afraid. She worried in advance whether she should do it—did she really dare? But in the end, she stood up and told truth to power.
Trump, of course, rejected this appeal and has demanded that the bishop apologize for preaching the gospel. I have read that since preaching her sermon, she has enduring scolding from Trump's fans, and even death threats. But she said that even expecting a backlash (although it turned out to be much worse that she expected) she decided that she absolutely had to speak up. And she has been heartened by everyone who thanked her for doing so.
What can be gained if people freeze in fear, and refuse to act or speak up?
And so I created a collage of a woman facing the gates of hell, with the ominous inscription over the portal, but she carries a lantern as she prepares to enter.
She will do all she can to keep that lantern from going out.
(As I said, I do admit my bias. Compare my Inauguration collage from four years ago.)
Image description: A gloomy view of a stone path leading to an arched doorway. Above the doorway a carved stone lintel reads 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here.' Through the dim doorway can be seen dark hell fires and vague shapes of people in torment. Standing before the doorway is the silhouette of a woman holding a lantern in her hand. The lantern emits a faint yellow glow.
Inauguration
Click on the links to see the 2025, 2024, 2023, 2022 and 2021 52 Card Project galleries.
I did not watch the inauguration and I haven't read much news. But I have picked up bits and pieces on social media about the flurry of activity/executive orders that the returning President has launched since resuming office.
Look. I freely admit that I have a side picked in this fight, and I'm not going to apologize for it. This week's collage, I trust, makes my point of view clear. Don't bother telling me, as Rob did on election night the first time he was elected, that it won't be that bad and that I'm overreacting.
They also told us that Roe v. Wade would never be overturned, and look what happened.
Nor do I find it easy to be sanguine about this. I just cannot. I have two daughters of reproductive age, one of whom is gay. I have trans friends. I believe strongly in racial reconciliation, environmental protection, strong public health, equal rights for women, assistance to the needy, fiscal responsibility, ethical government, and welcoming immigrants--all things that I think it is safe to say this administration opposes.
From what I can tell from his initial orders this first week, the current head of the executive branch wants people to be afraid. The flurry of executive orders that have emerged from the White House are DESIGNED to enrage and terrify people like me. It is a known propaganda policy of fascist governments: overwhelm with shock and awe so there is no resistance to the strong arm of the state. So how does one respond?
I thought about the sign over the gates of Hell in Dante's Inferno: "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here." That, of course, is exactly what Trump wants: for people like me to feel hopeless and helpless and afraid.
Yet, even knowing how grim the next four years will be, I need to resist that demand for hopelessness, both for my own sanity and as an ethical stance. I saw a portion of the sermon that the Right Rev. Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde preached in the National Cathedral to Trump and his cronies, appealing to him to show mercy to those who were afraid. She worried in advance whether she should do it—did she really dare? But in the end, she stood up and told truth to power.
Trump, of course, rejected this appeal and has demanded that the bishop apologize for preaching the gospel. I have read that since preaching her sermon, she has enduring scolding from Trump's fans, and even death threats. But she said that even expecting a backlash (although it turned out to be much worse that she expected) she decided that she absolutely had to speak up. And she has been heartened by everyone who thanked her for doing so.
What can be gained if people freeze in fear, and refuse to act or speak up?
And so I created a collage of a woman facing the gates of hell, with the ominous inscription over the portal, but she carries a lantern as she prepares to enter.
She will do all she can to keep that lantern from going out.
(As I said, I do admit my bias. Compare my Inauguration collage from four years ago.)
Image description: A gloomy view of a stone path leading to an arched doorway. Above the doorway a carved stone lintel reads 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here.' Through the dim doorway can be seen dark hell fires and vague shapes of people in torment. Standing before the doorway is the silhouette of a woman holding a lantern in her hand. The lantern emits a faint yellow glow.
Click on the links to see the 2025, 2024, 2023, 2022 and 2021 52 Card Project galleries.