They wouldn’t send real Americans away to be stored.  Radical Muslims, sure.  Illegal immigrants, yeah.  Maybe welfare queens.  But not just…regular Americans.

That’s what Judy had nervously told herself for that entire six weeks, between the day she was first called in for questioning and the day when she was, in fact, sent to one of the country’s resident storage facilities.

She was young and stupid when she took those pictures.  Since then, she had turned her life around.  She was born again and regretted the things she had done when she was lost.  She was no longer that woman.

But in President Pence’s America, that didn’t matter.  Pictures “of an inappropriate nature” like hers meant she was a defective citizen.  A friend found the pictures somewhere and submitted a complaint…because of course they did.  Everybody did that.  If the situation were reversed, she would have done the same.

Defective Americans went to storage centers, where they could be stored away from society–and, most importantly, where they could be used for free labor.  Because hard labor was the one sacred thing which made America better than any other country in the world.

The customer service representative whose job it was to interrogate her grinned when he saw the printouts of her photos.  “You should’ve known better,” he admonished her, the grin still in his voice.  “Don’t worry, ma’am.  The place I’m sending you is a great deal, and you’ll only have to stay for four years…”

***

She remembered how she wanted to scream at her neighbors:  “I’m not a bad person!  I’m just like you!  I voted for Trump and Pence too!”  But she was suddenly on the other side of the fence, and they didn’t really want to talk to her or look her in the eye.

How she had wished back then that they would see her side of the story.  Now it was four and a half years later, and she didn’t care anymore.  She was tired.  This was her old neighborhood, but it didn’t feel like home.  She limped slowly up the sidewalk to her house.  There was a child she didn’t know playing in the driveway.  His mother stood nearby, watching.

The house had been confiscated and sold while Judy was locked up.  The walls had been newly painted a bright pink, and a magnolia tree had been planted by the front steps.  There was another, smaller house being constructed in what once was the backyard.

The mother finally noticed Judy and started walking towards her.  “Can I help you?”  Her question was made softer by her accent.

“I used to live in this house,” Judy said.

The woman’s face hardened.  “We don’t want any problems.  We bought this house all legal.”

“Right.  I know.  I was in a center.”

The woman shrugged.  “So was my brother.”  She picked up her child and went inside, locking the door behind her.

***

A couple days before, Judy had gone to see Mr. Rodriguez, an attorney who was working with storage center survivors.  Just a few years ago, she would have viewed him with suspicion–was he in the country legally?  Now she only wondered if he could help her.

Mr. Rodriguez shook his head sympathetically.  “It’s going to be very difficult to get any compensation for you.  It’s pretty obvious from your online record that you were an avid supporter of the Pence regime in its early years.”

She fidgeted with her paperwork.  “Well, I believed him when he said he would bring back the jobs and all that.”

The lawyer sighed.  “I don’t want to get your hopes up.  The new government has focused on specific groups of Americans which were harshly targeted by the Pence administration.  It will be hard to make a case for you.  I will file an application…but I doubt you will get any results.”

She did not argue, as something in her sensed he was already being kinder to her than he needed to be.  She picked up her papers and stood up to go.

But she felt a twinge of desperation and bent down to him again.

“You had friends in…the resistance?  Yes?”  she whispered.

“If I did, what makes you think I would tell you who they are?”

***

Her nephew, Nick, lived at his mother’s place, in a suburb on what used to be Judy’s side of town.  Their last conversation before they fell out of touch was on Facebook, and it had ended with Judy mocking him for being a “snowflake.”  He had been whining about his gender identity or some such nonsense.

She thought about all of that again on the long bus ride to see him.  She hadn’t called or texted him about her visit.  What if he didn’t want to talk to her at all?

But Nick gave her his usual quiet, easy going nod when he opened the door.  “Hi.  Mom isn’t here right now.”

“That’s okay.  How are you doing?”

He let her in.  He was still very pale and very skinny.  Maybe a little skinnier.

“I’m fine.”  He perched on the side of the sofa.  “I should be asking you how you are.  Mom said you got locked up.”

“Yes.  They let me out not too long ago.”

“That’s rough.  I was arrested a few times.  I never went to a center, though.  I guess I didn’t have much they wanted to take.”  He chuckled.  “Was it bad?”

“It was…”  She found that even after all this time she didn’t want to talk about or think about what it was like.  The house–that was what she wanted to think about.  Her house.

Nick’s dark eyes squinted a bit.  “Do you still believe the people in the centers brought it on themselves?”

“No, no.  I was wrong, and I understand that.”  She was lying.  It had all been a mistake with her.  She only took a couple of pictures.  She wasn’t like those types who protested every week–she never blocked traffic or burned anything.  And she wasn’t a terrorist.

“We should put it all behind us, anyway.  I’ve forgiven you for what you said about me,”  Nick announced.  So full of himself, she thought.  “You’ve always been my favorite aunt.”

She hesitantly accepted a hug from him.

“If you need any help…Mom sometimes gets extra stuff from the church pantry.”

She tried not to sound too eager.  “Thanks.  So, there’s that group of anarchists…they’re liberating homes, is what they call it…”

“No worries.  I don’t hang out with them anymore.”

“I actually wanted to meet with them.”

“Wow.”  Nick raised an eyebrow.  “Not a good idea.  They would hate you.”

Her face flushed with anger.  “Why?  Is this because of how I voted again?  Most of America voted that way–deal with it.”

“But you realize you hurt yourself with your vote, right?”

“Not true.  President Pence wanted to help the country.  The bureaucrats are the ones who came up with the centers and they made it all spin out of control.  It wasn’t his fault.”  She realized her voice had become shrill.

“I sense some unresolved guilt there in your response…”

God, how she hated it when the millennials went into their psychobabble.  Next, he’d want to talk to her about her self-esteem.

“I’m not guilty of anything,” she snapped.  “I’m one of God’s children, and He has washed my sins away.”  She turned and left before he could say anything else to her.

***

It was on the way back, the ride to her tiny rented room, that it hit her hard.  She would never get her house back.  It was so unfair.  All because of one mistake she made.  One little mistake!

And, for the life of her, she would never figure out what that one mistake was.

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2016 was a very special year and it deserves a very special sendoff.  Here is my recipe for Dec 31st:

For the ritual soundtrack, I’m going to turn on some nostalgic Prince.  Your tastes may vary–you are welcome to instead try some Leonard Cohen, Bowie, Sharon Jones, or any of the many talented musicians who left the planet this year.

Sadly, I don’t have a cauldron, so instead I’m going to find a large pot and put it on the stove.  Bring water to a boil in the pot and then toss in the following ingredients:

–the hair of a Trump voter

–eye of Pepe the frog

–my now useless I’m With Her sticker

–my now useless Bill of Rights

–a photo of Justin Bieber…who is still alive

–a few chopped up pieces of the root of division and prejudice

Be sure to stir the pot, and then dance around it, muttering dark incantations and chanting:  “Things will only get worse!  Things will only get worse!”

Repeat as many times as needed.  Keep the pot for next year–I’m sure we’ll be doing the same thing in 2017….

October, October, October!  This Year Only!  All Month Long!  Don’t miss our blowout sale of Ideas You Should Buy!  Buy These Ideas Now!

Our selection is crazy!  And by crazy, we mean…there are only two choices.  Two choices nobody likes.  But hey, it wouldn’t be a low low prices blowout sale if we actually had something attractive to sell…heh heh heh.

Which flavor of Patriotism do you prefer?  Is it the classic taste of Standing Up For The Little Guy?  It’s mostly whipped cream and air with no nutritional content, but it sure looks pretty.  Or would you like to try the brand new America For Americans Only flavor?  Well…it’s not really new.  We bring it back every few decades or so.  It always causes food poisoning and pain, but humans just can’t stay away from it.

Speaking of things that never go away, follow me to our fashion section.  Did you know that bigotry is back in style this year?  Fine, fine…it never went out of style, but it’s the definite It thing for this fall!  You look upset.  Are those racist pants too, shall we say, risque for you?  Do they not fit very well?  No worries!  Take a few of our Color-Blind Brotherly Love pills.  They will make you feel as if such a thing actually exists!

What are you looking at over there?  Well, yes, we do have some alternative products available.  We’ve got the Libertarian, the Green…  But keep in mind that these are not the standard American models.  It’s very difficult to get replacement parts for them.  And let me remind you that all our election year purchases are nonrefundable.  If it breaks, you can’t bring it back!

So don’t delay!  After Nov 8th, it will be too late!  We have lots of shiny Ideas on our shelves.  Would you like Better Wages?  Reproductive Rights?  Religious Freedom?  Intimidating Foreign Policy?  Building The Wall?  Get them no….oh.

I see.  You’ve been watching the news a lot lately.  So, now you’ve got a bad case of fear, am I right?  The only thing you’re interested in is that giant bag of Law And Order?  Great choice!  Will it work?  Will it make you safe?  Of course it will!

Thank you for shopping with us, and have a wonderful four years!

America is a scary place these days.

As I leave my house in the morning, I have to dodge bullets from angry black people trying to shoot me up.  I can barely make it down my driveway.  I’m pretty sure the Black Lives Matter movement is responsible for this.

Even if I survive that, I still have to make it past the ISIS terrorists lurking behind every corner.  So many suicide bombings in my neighborhood.  We should have never let those suspicious refugees in.

And then there’s the commute, with crazy cars veering all over the road.  I’m a well-informed citizen, so I know what that’s about–illegal immigrants driving drunk.  And you think any of them will get deported?  Nooooo…  (Although to be fair, it could also be the hippies smoking that legalized pot.)

No, they will continue living in our country, taking our welfare and stealing our jobs (maybe at the same time!)  Right along with the Asians and other foreigners stealing our factories and our manufacturing.

What’s a frightened white person to do?

Thank God we have a strong leader like Donald Trump running in this election.  He will make all those scary people go away…somehow.  He will make America safe again!

At least…safe for me…right?

So, what is the deal with this cray-cray Trump candidacy?  Is it just the reality show from Hell?  Is it a dumber incarnation of Mussolini?  I’m staring at it in horror, but what is it?

One simple answer is that it’s a reaction to Obama’s presidency.  The racists of this country have had a rough seven years trying to deal with the reality of a black President.  Now, here comes Trump to the rescue, this man who still hasn’t sorted out his feelings about the KKK.  The yokels who cheer for him might not agree with his stances on health care or abortion or almost anything else, but that doesn’t matter–the essence of his campaign is all about bashing brown-skinned people.

Despite the fact that his administration is responsible for a record number of deportations, the screaming heads on talk radio have always accused President Obama of purposely letting high numbers of undocumented Latino immigrants into the country in order to “change our culture” (code language for making the culture less white).  But, never fear!  Trump is here and he’s going to build a giant wall to protect us from all these foreign aliens.

Likewise, the right-wing conspiracy theorists believe that Obama is sympathetic to radical Islamist terror groups, perhaps even that he’s a radical Muslim himself.  This although he has expanded George W’s drone strike program.  Once again, Trump bravely steps up to the plate.  He will keep all the Muslims out.  Radical or non-radical, it doesn’t matter.  That should solve the problem.

In an ironic twist, as the President is disrespected because of his skin color, he is simultaneously blamed for being the one to cause racial division in the nation.  Apparently, he is too soft on the (scary to conservatives) Black Lives Matter movement.  In the world of anti-Obama hysteria, tiny molehills are turned into mountains.  As with everything else in his presidency, Obama has treaded very carefully when it comes to incidents of police brutality, not speaking out as forcefully as many would like him to.  He got in enough trouble just for saying that Trayvon Martin could have been his kid.  And still, according to the crazy rightie blogosphere, he has been coddling rioters and looters.  Trump, on the other hand–he doesn’t mess around with those pesky BLM protesters.  He will have his own audiences kick and shove them out of his rallies.  He’s a big man, that Donald.

So the question is–will we allow the racist backlash against our country’s first African-American President to result in a destructive, reactionary Trump presidency?  I sincerely hope not.

(First of all, it’s so nice to have my online access back! Our Internet was down after a windstorm last week, but now I’m up and running again!)

There’s a douchebag I blogged about over a year ago, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of him now. The douchebag in question paraded near a middle school here in the Portland suburbs with a rifle, in order to make a statement about his Second Amendment rights. This was not long after the Sandy Hook massacre, so naturally there were frantic parents who were calling the police, thinking that there was a threat to their children’s safety. The police stated that they couldn’t arrest the guy, as he wasn’t doing anything illegal, but a couple of the schools in the neighborhood did go into lockdown mode. It seems that Mr. Douchenozzle purposely picked his location to make a point. You can see why I have low regard for this individual.

And in light of everything that’s happened recently, I have to wonder, what would have happened if Mr. Nozzle had been of a darker complexion?

Because the way this situation resolved itself is that “officers talked to the man and determined he wasn’t doing anything illegal.” Sounds like it was a nice, calm conversation. Let’s be blunt here. If he had been black, would that polite conversation have happened? Would he have been allowed to strut up and down the street with a gun strapped to his back? Or would the cops have instantly shouted at him to drop his weapon, and pointed their guns at him? I wonder how that would have potentially escalated things, and how the Second Amendment defender would have reacted.

Or…would the police even have given him that much time to react? Would they simply have started shooting? After all, the only thing a black man needs to get killed these days is a toy gun or fake gun in his hands.

But nah, there’s no double standard here. And it’s definitely not about race. In fact, I’m the race-baiter for bringing it up. My apologies….

Perhaps those who don’t believe in evolution are right after all…we don’t seem to have evolved very far.

Yesterday, a mannequin wearing an Obama mask was found hanging from a Missouri bridge.  Yep–yet more racially suggestive attacks on this President.  I thought at some point this kind of stuff would end, but I guess it doesn’t.  (Thanks to Xena’s blog for tipping me off about this lovely incident.)

So it is clear that dinosaurs still walk among us, shuffling and stomping and grunting.  I don’t know if those are the same dinosaurs Jesus liked to take rides on back in His day, but they are certainly backwards enough.  If people who think like this can continue to exist on this planet, then the idea of Earth being only a few thousand years old suddenly doesn’t sound so crazy anymore.  Creationists, I have to give it to you–I may have been wrong all along.

It’s fine if you passionately disagree with this President’s policies.  I don’t agree with some of his policies, either.  But if I have to explain to you why something like this is in bad taste, then you just don’t get it…and you might be a species that’s going extinct.