|Barbara Kruger, "Untitled (Your body is a battleground)," 1989.|
But here I am. It's Blasey-Ford testimony day, and I tuned in for about 5 minutes. Long enough for Ford to tell them she's 100% sure it was Kavenaugh (not a thing that gets confused, in my experience), and then they went to recess, and the news commentators on a network I normally like discussed her girlish voice.
So now I'm sitting here in tears, listening to angry music, and not watching any live streams. I called and berated my Senators, and I'll write some #postcardstovoters here in a bit, and I'll continue to feel rage. Delicious, righteous rage. RAGE.
All we have right now is our rage and our voices. That's it. Republicans have made up their minds, so grab a friend, talk to someone undecided or moderate, and when you have a flat tire on election day, or an awful sinus infection, or it's just a shitty day, go vote anyway if you're physically and emotionally able.
Vote them out.
To hell with them all.