Courtesy of Joni Edelman (instagram.com/herr_und_frau)
If you’re not from California, you might not know that the Pacific Ocean is often unexpectedly chilly. I know, you see the beaches, the sunsets, the bikini-clad Hollywood stars, and you think “that’s the beach life right there,” but stick your toe in when the current is just right (or just wrong, depending on how you look at it) and you’re likely to get a shock.
This is an argument that parents routinely have with their children on beach outings. “Honey, the water is really cold. I know you think you want to swim in there, but it’s really, REALLY cold.“
To which the kid almost 100% of the time replies, “I’m not cold.“
The real irony of it all is, of course, the ocean is actually colder in the summer. So the time that you’re most likely to go there is the time you’re most likely to get hypothermia. But watch a child wade out into the waves, and you might never know it’s cold. Because they’re never going to admit it. Because in essence, that is what having children is. You spend your whole life failing and freezing in the ocean and generally screwing shit up to then pass your sage wisdom onto them, only to have them tell you that you’re wrong.
They will emerge from the ocean shivering so severely that strangers worry they might be having a seizure. Their lips are purple. Their fingers are numb. You will bundle them in the beach towel you packed because you knew they were eventually going to be freezing, and then you will say, at least a little smugly, “It’s cold, isn’t it?“
And they will say, “No.”
They will continue to insist that it’s not cold, and they will continue to do this until they are probably 20 years old. You could show them a thermometer. You could explain the way currents work, driving colder waters to the shore or whatever. You could throw them into the ocean, and they will still insist that it is not cold.
And that, in a nutshell, is your average Trump voter.
I know this to be true because I have seen countless videos and read numerous accountings of his idiocy, and yet when I posted a simple embroidery that said “Fuck Trump, “ someone told me to go to Syria and get blown up. There were your MAGAs and your #trump2020s and a few other choice phrases, but the prevailing theme was that my LACK of support for Trump was not only a deeply personal insult but a threat to their presidentially fueled fascism.
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Last week, Trump ordered the assassination of a powerful Iranian General. That action was, according to many, tantamount to a declaration of war. And here’s the rub for me, my son is a United States Marine. And yes, he signed up to be a Marine. And yes, that means that he agreed to fight in a war. But that doesn’t mean that he wants to fight in a war. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean that I, his mother, want to see him die in a war. In fact, I don’t want to see anyone’s sons die in combat. Neither American nor Iranian nor any other nationality. Because I believe war, while occasionally necessary, is fundamentally ridiculous.
Yes, I’m a pacifist. No, I’m not sorry.
In my frustration, I raided my vintage fabric stash and took to needle and thread. I then posted the result of that frustration on Instagram, igniting the fury of several hundred Trump devotees.
Presumably, these folks read or at least watch some amount of news. Or at the very least they scroll Twitter. And yet, it’s like the child and the ocean.
Me: “That water is cold, guys. It’s at 50°. See right here on this thermometer?”
Trumpflakes: “NO, IT IS NOT. That is not cold water. That is the best water, and we don’t care if we die of hypothermia, we love that water. Also, you’re stupid.”
Someone even tagged @realdonaldtrump in my post. Like Trump is going to see me wielding my needle and thread and be so affected that he must take immediate action. “CIA. DISPATCH TO SANTA CRUZ, CALFORNIA WHERE YOU WILL FIND A MIDDLE-AGED NASTY WOMAN WHO EMBROIDERED ‘FUCK TRUMP’ IN CURSIVE. I THINK. (But I’m not sure, because I can’t actually read cursive.)”
The thing is, I'm just a lady who likes crafts and saving resources, recycling, exercising my first amendment rights, not shooting people, or getting shot at, believing in science. You know. That sort of thing.
And Trump doesn’t give a shit about me.
And guess what, even if you’re a #trumpflake, even if you vehemently deny his wrongdoings, he doesn’t give a shit about you either.
In your act of patriotism, you are only further enabling him to indulge his reckless, narcissistic impulses.
From what I can tell, what you get out of the deal is "owning the libtards." And you're right, the stuff Trump does is driving us batshit. It's unethical; it's dangerous and self-serving. It’s like the worst reality television. But you aren't watching a TV show. You live here on Earth too. Once you're done "owning" us, you still have to deal with all those real things you wish didn't exist. You know, like climate change, disease epidemics, and the changing demographics and attitudes in a democracy necessarily changing the face of our government. That’s all, though.
Trump is still an unfit president, whether I put it on fabric or not.
To see more of Joni's craftiness and buy one for yourself, head over to Joni's Instagram shop at herr_und_frau.
