Greetings, commies!
I usually don't get this personal on my literary blog, but in light of massive political masturbation on Facebook following the surprising election results, with oceans of bodily fluids streaming, I felt compelled to lift my skirt and show a little cheek. Disclaimer: I am commenting on my own personal experience, not generalizing by any means. Although, I suspect, many of you have similar experiences. I promise, tomorrow I'll get back to reviewing books and interviewing authors.
In case you didn't know, I graduated from Stamford High School in 1996. I am friends with many of my former classmates on Facebook and even attended a reunion, just for the heck of it. Most of these people were not my friends in real life. In fact, they made my life rather unpleasant, deliberately or not. My social status during my high-school years would be best described as that of a token "freak" - a political refugee from Eastern Europe, with frizzy hair, a deviated septum, a bone marrow disorder and a vague Eurotrashy accent that has since been erased. It was perfectly acceptable for them to make me the subject of pranks and countless lame Cold War era jokes. Russians, Ukrainians and Poles are an easy target. You can bully them without being accused of racism, and people from those countries are not inclined to any kind of organized activism. They just suck it up and soldier on. And that's just what I did. I kept up with the honors program, staying in the top 5% of the class, combating intense anxiety by cutting my forearms and throwing up in the bathroom.
Fast forward twenty years. November, 2016. Donald Trump has just won the election. Many of my former tormentors have been expressing distress over the election of a candidate described as "racist, homophobic and bigoted", among other things. They demonstratively wring their hands and express concern for their "black, Muslim, gay, transgender, Hispanic, etc." friends. I find it fascinating that the same people who ridiculed, taunted, bullied, insulted and ostracized me throughout high-school are suddenly so concerned for the emotional well-being of their "minority" friends. Dear Class of 1996. I don't believe that for a second that you are concerned about anyone or anything beyond your own privileged butts. You don't have any minority friends, or if you do, by some miracle, then only as a fashion statement. You only surround yourself with Beautiful People, whose speech is littered with exclamations like "Awesome!" and "Amazing!"
Please, do not tell me how heartbroken and worried you are about your imaginary black, purple, Reformed Zoroastrian, Martian, trans-species imaginary friends. You are the same self-centered, hypocritical, prejudiced posers you were in high-school.
Deplorably yours,
Connecticut Commie
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