Salute Your Shorts

The rise of Bob Talbot 2016’s FULL COMMUNISM (BABY) was contingent on the inevitable coronation of our NeoLiberal, incrementalist Madam President. It was certain that once America had gotten a bitter taste of more deportations, more hospital bombings, more international meddling, more destabilized nations bleeding refugees, more crooked trade deals, more militarized police murders of poor minorities, more, oh Hell. This is getting exhausting.

Once they’d experienced Shittier Obama, the clear alternative of FULL COMMUNISM (BABY) would burst forth, blossoming, bringing to fruition my vision of Pansexual Polyamorous Post-scarcity Luxury Space Communism.

Then, something happened.

She lost.

Now, we’re facing the specter of Actual Fascism, as opposed to Creeping Oligarchic “We Can Still Have Semantic Arguments About Whether This Is a Police State” Fascism, and it’s time to reevaluate our approach.

It would be a futile act to once again throw our weight behind an aging Sanders, or shift to the comparably worn-out Warren (slow clap for Hill-dawg, Liz). The flaccid, non-existent American Left has already rejected this obvious post-Obama scoot in the proper direction with their lack of attendance at the polls. Surely there’s a sub-septuagenarian politician capable of running the show? (Pro Tip: if someone rhetorically uses the word “surely,” the answer is almost always,  “No.”)

What we must do (and by “we” I mean, as usual, “white people with money”) is take this cloud and find the silver lining. We can’t afford to lose our jobs for attempting to organize labor. We won’t risk being arrested for civil disobedience.

No. If there will be camps, we can make them the best damned camps they can be. Less Schindler’s List, more Hogan’s Heroes.

Some of us don’t have the people skills to properly run a camp. I’d suggest that those of you who don’t work well with others seek occupation in the burgeoning Wall Maintenance industry.

For the rest of you, tap into that expertise you gained reading the Patrick Lencioni books you were forced to digest when you became shift manager at Starbucks and Make Camp Great Again.

Just imagine it, folks. You’ll be the cool older guy, gal or gx counselor (commandant, Wokesturmführer) plucked straight from Wet Hot American Summer, heading up basket weaving, pony rides, and discussions about possible liberation in 2018, or 2020 at the latest, but only on an election year! Nothing could possibly happen at any other moment. Dat Vote.

The time for using MS paint to carve up the US map into a collection of states that would ensure the eruption of NeoLiberal Spring has passed. There’s only one way you can help now, and that’s by making life as comfortable as you can for our soon-to-be sleepaway camp denizens.

Sing them into complacency with ballads of the mighty Chris Rock/Dwayne Johnson, “Rock the Rock” ticket coming to rescue them in 2020. More Mary Poppins than Amon Göth, it will be your duty to assuage their fears. Maybe it’s Obama/Winfrey 2020 that lulls them into sweet slumber. Regardless, it’s your lifted voice and stern, matronly hand that will keep hope alive while they await freedom.

We’ll always wear safety pins at Safe Camp to let everyone know we’re the Good Guys. We’ll practice talking in Mandarin about how much we love the Transformers franchise, we’ll design our own heroic monuments with toothpicks and Elmer’s Glue, and we’ll wait.

That’s really all we can do, right? Wait and see. There’s always another election to look forward to. Surely someone will come along?

Surely?

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