Dita Parker

Friday, November 22, 2024

Yes, there will also be singing. / About the dark times.

Without a hint of sarcasm, cynicism, naïveté, or religious undertones, carefree Friday, sweetie darlings. If only for three minutes and thirty-nine seconds.

With all that's going on, come on! Yes, with all that's going on. Precisely because of all that's going on. Day by day we're adapting to the awful, and for the sake of your sanity and ability to function, to some extent you have to adapt or lose your footing, sense of belonging, and purpose. It is genuinely quite stressful and demoralizing, even paralyzing. But let's not normalize the awful or it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

So do look after yourself, your sanity and ability to function, in any and every way that works for you, or you will lose said sanity and ability to function. And you don't want that. You have work to do. So be it art, exercise, comfort food, friends, family, community, whatever puts your mind at ease while nourishing it, go for it. We're not winning battles on an empty stomach, a fried brain, or a famished soul.

The dogs bark but the caravan moves on.

To be continued.


Friday, November 8, 2024

Enjoy your oligarchy!

Dita can't come to the Den right now, she is drinking glögg, eating cookies and watching cheesy Christmas movies for the next four years.

Okay! See you all in November 2028. And to the WASP guys in ties and their tech billionaire buddies: Try not to turn the climate crisis into climate chaos, half the population into second-class citizens, the country into your personal piggy bank, and democracy into a thing of the past.

(Not holding my breath for four years on those, that's for sure.)

[My sons, over the past few days: "They elected a criminal? That's not a serious country, that's a meme factory." "And people wonder why young adults don't want children. Who wants kids in a world that works like this." "Mom, are you crying?" I was. For a second I was. But I'm with Margaret Atwood, despair is not an option. Despair is paralyzing and exactly what those gloating in glee wish the rest of us to feel: defeat, defeated. Well fuck that shit. Not today, mister. Not ever, sister.]

Tuesday, November 5, 2024

❤️ like there's no tomorrow, 🗳️ like there is

Ask not whether a true American patriot could ever be called a fascist, ask whether someone who expects a cult-like following, mixes business interests with national interests, someone who threatens fellow citizens, political opponents and journalists with violence, and admires tyrants and oppressors, could ever be called a true American, let alone a patriot.