“There is a saying in the Black American community that we must work twice as hard to get half as far. What we do not often say out loud is that for those of us who reach great heights we have not only worked twice as hard but we have also been hurt twice as much, and probably more. For Jackson to reach this place, she has had to weather a lifetime of this treatment and not let it stop her.”—Mikki Kendall/TIME
Cartoon used by permission: 261302_Ketanji Brown Jackson by Bob Englehart, PoliticalCartoonscom
OPEN LETTER TO JUDGE KETANJI ONYIKA (means “lovely one”) BROWN JACKSON
Dear Confirmed Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson to the Supreme Court of the United States:
Congratulations, My Dear!
I hope my greeting is not too informal, but I feel like every Black woman in America must feel right now—that you belong to me as a daughter, a sister, and a role model to my granddaughter. I am old enough to be your mother and anxiously prayed you through that evil circus-level Senate hearing you endured as if you were my own.
As many of the Republican Senators called you everything but a child of God, I downed a half bottle of antacids as I interceded in prayer while I watched you keep your composure and earn your spot on the Supreme Court. My blood pressure went through the roof, and if I could have had Lindsey Graham, Josh Hawley, Marsha Blackburn and Ted Cruz within my reach, I probably would have gone all Will Smith on their asses! But you played it right. As you said, “It has taken 232 years and 115 prior appointments for a black woman to be selected to serve on the Supreme Court of the United States,” and you showed that not only are you worthy but you deserve this appointment, blessed Ketanji.
Cartoon used by permission: 261370 The GOP We All Live With by Christopher Weyant, The Boston Globe, MA
When I researched your life, I learned that you have always cultivated a “thick skin” against racists and horrid people, and that you have devoted a lifetime to the philosophy of not letting haters distract you. It truly showed during the hearing. I want both my grandchildren to memorize your mantra and learn to emulate your actions:
“I just want to be clear about how I envision thick skin. As a professional of color, there will inevitably be times when you will feel singled out, challenged, questioned, undervalued, and misinterpreted, and you will very much want to call out or cancel people who say and do discriminatory things. But doing so takes time and effort, and if we are going to get to where we belong … we can’t keep stopping and fretting over random ridiculousness!”—Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson
Bravo, our persevering, uber-intelligent, hard-working, kind, beautiful Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson! You stayed the course. You broke the glass ceiling (no, let’s call it for what it is: you broke the lead ceiling). You’ve given all good and righteous people in America (no matter what their race, gender, creed, or religion) hope that we can eventually—someday—fulfill the vision of a multicultural/multiracial governing body for which our great nation has been called to represent.
Cartoon used by permission: 261851_First Black Woman SCOTUS by Dave Granlund, PoliticalCartoons.com
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
“Holocaust graphic novel ‘Maus’ banned in Tennessee county schools over nudity and profanity”—Washington Post
“Banned: Books on race and sexuality are disappearing from Texas schools in record numbers”—NBC NEWS
“Missouri school district bans Toni Morrison’s ‘The Bluest Eye’”—TODAY
“Mom Who Tried to Ban Toni Morrison’s ‘Beloved’ Is Now a GOP Star”—Vice
“Book Ban Efforts Spread Across the U.S”—New York Times
CARTOON USED BY PERMISSION: 259385 Banning books by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
IRATE MOTHER STORMS LOCAL SCHOOL BOARD TO BAN THE BIBLE
By Common Sense
February 2, 2022
At the School Board meeting in Anywhere, USA, a White overbearing mother hijacked the meeting to protest her seventeen-year-old being assigned the Bible to read in his AP (Advanced Placement) literature class. According to America’s White Mom, her son’s assignment was to read the Bible from the beginning to the end and write a 500-word paper on why this time-honored book should be considered inspirational, educational and, in some quarters, inerrant. Mrs. White Mom came to the school board meeting to get the Bible banned for its “content,” when her son, said he had “night terrors after reading the Bible one evening”.
“When my son showed me his reading assignment, my heart sunk,” [sic] America’s White Mom said in the Board meeting. “It was some of the most explicit material you can imagine. My baby-boy didn’t get very far in his reading before he encountered stories of extreme cruelty, brutality, gang rape, mutilation, cannibalism, infanticide, and the brutal slaughter of women, so much so, it caused him to vomit all night. The first passage that almost destroyed my innocent Sweetpea was from Judges 19:22-29 about two men traveling on a business trip along with a concubine, when they were invited to stay at the home of a stranger. As the story unfolds, the men of the town demanded to rape the two male guests, but the owner of the house thought that would be inhospitable so his guest offered the concubine to them instead. Listen to this:
‘So, the man took his concubine and sent her outside to them, and they raped her and abused her throughout the night, and at dawn they let her go. At daybreak the woman went back to the house where her master was staying, fell down at the door and lay there until daylight.
‘When her master got up in the morning and opened the door of the house and stepped out to continue on his way, there lay his concubine, fallen in the doorway of the house, with her hands on the threshold. He said to her, “Get up; let’s go.” But there was no answer. Then the man put her on his donkey and set out for home.
‘When he reached home, he took a knife and cut up his concubine, limb by limb, into twelve parts and sent them into all the areas of Israel.’”
CARTOON USED BY PERMISSION: 259473 Protecting our schools by Dave Whamond, Canada, PoliticalCartoons com
America’s White Mom was just getting started, and as she did so, she began to convulse. “When my son (gulp) pointed out the inhumane passages of murder and carnage (gulp), it was some of the most explicit material you can imagine. It caused me to meet with my state lawmakers. They couldn’t believe what I was showing them. Their faces turned bright red with embarrassment.” At this point, Mrs. White Mom went on to lambast the Board for not warning parents of the scenes of genocide that seem to be so prevalent within the Old Testament of the Bible, such as in Isaiah 13:16:
This reporter noticed that everyone was stunned into such silence that you could hear a pin drop in the room. The Board members began to squirm as the Head of the Board finally asked the others in the room: “Aren’t we all Christians in this here town, and don’t we all have Bibles in our homes—maybe multiple copies of them? Not that we read them as much as we should, of course (ha, ha, ha), but that is neither here nor there. The point of the Bible is to introduce our kids to the Little Baby Jesus. . . to show them that the Christian God is love, and the only way to eternal salvation. That’s the main point of the Bible. Just ignore that other stuff America’s White Mom is quoting, which I don’t remember from my reading of the Bible back in the day. Are you sure your son was reading the Bible and not the Koran, which we banned ten years ago, by the way, for its Shariah law, Moslem-pushing hatred against Christians, and its brutal violence? I don’t think we even have a copy of the Koran in our city library, that’s what a great job we did in getting it banned.”
“Oh really,” replied agitated White Mom. “Well, my son can certainly tell you all about it if you speak to him. Do you know what he said to me? He said the passages in the Bible he had read were ‘disgusting and gross’. It was hard for him to handle, and he almost gave up on his reading assignment right then and there, especially after reading Deuteronomy 25:11-12:
‘When two men are fighting and the wife of one of them intervenes to drag her husband clear of his opponent, if she puts out her hand and catches hold of the man by his privates, you must cut off her hand and show her no mercy.’
“Auugh, what the hell is that? My little guy has been shielding his wee-wee and sack with his hands ever since reading that passage. And another thing (this really hurt his heart), my nephew, who my son loves very much, has Down Syndrome, and when my impressionable boy read Leviticus 21:18-19, he threw the Bible across the room in total disgust:
‘The Lord said to Moses, “Say to Aaron (the High Priest): ‘For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defect may come near to offer the food of his God. No man who has any defect may come near: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed; no man with a crippled foot or hand, or who is a hunchback or a dwarf, or who has any eye defect, or who has festering or running sores or damaged testicles. No descendant of Aaron the priest who has any defect is to come near to present the food offerings to the Lord. He has a defect; he must not come near to offer the food of his God. He may eat the most holy food of his God, as well as the holy food; yet because of his defect, he must not go near the curtain or approach the altar, and so desecrate my sanctuary.’”
CARTOON USED BY PERMISSION: 259391 Banning books by Dave Whamond, Canada, PoliticalCartoons com
“Now, now America’s White Mom,” exclaimed the Head of the Board. “You really must calm down. Tell the boy to give the Bible another try. How bad could the Holy Bible be if every Christian church around the world preaches from it and encourages studying it on a consistent basis? Do you know what type of headache it will cause us if we ban the Holy Bible? We’ll be run out of town on a rail. Surely, you can ignore the brutality of our nation’s most sacred book for the higher purpose of what it’s trying to teach us. It’s about God’s love. It’s about caring for each other. It’s about doing the right thing at all times.”
“Nope—no can do,” replied America’s White Mom. “After reading the verse sanctioning cannibalism in Jeremiah 19:9, my boy ran away from home still holding his hands over his gonads, and I haven’t seen him since. He sent me a text which said if we ban the Bible, maybe he’ll think about coming home, but as a kid it just didn’t seem safe to stay around Bible-reading adults anymore, and he says that there are scores more horrifying passages in the Bible that support his decision”:
“I [God] will make them eat the flesh of their sons and daughters, and they will eat one another’s flesh because their enemies will press the siege so hard against them to destroy them.”
Given the evidence that America’s White Mom presented, the school board in Anywhere, USA had no choice but to ban the Bible for its wanton cruelty and potential pollution of young minds.
CARTOON USED BY PERMISSION: 253353 Wrong History Book by Pat Byrnes, PoliticalCartoons com
ELEANOR’S SELAH ABOUT BOOK BANNING
In 2013, a White suburban, Christian mother, and GOP activist (Laura Murphy) fought to get Toni Morrison’s Beloved removed from her senior-level high school son’s AP class in the largest school system in Virginia (the school system in which my kids attended) on the grounds that it gave him “night terrors” because it was so explicit in nature (brutality and rape committed against the slaves by their “masters,” and bestiality committed by the slaves who had been reduced to beasts by the slave owners’ treatment of them). Some of the dialogue used in my satire of “banning the Bible” were the actual words of cross-wearing Laura Murphy and her son Brett, which were found in print and in the Virginia Republican Governor’s ads in 2021 that handed the election to Republican Gov. Youngkin because it scared the shit out of Virginia’s White voting moms. (BTW: It was very obvious by the strategic placement of the cross on Ms. Murphy’s neck that Gov. Youngkin’s campaign ad featuring her was completely, shamelessly, and totally directed to White, Christian moms of Virginia who swallowed the fear she was peddling hook, line, and sinker.)
Upon taking office, Gov. Youngkin of Virginia immediately set up a “hot-tip line” for Virginians to call if they see, hear, or even suspect teachers teaching CRT (Critical Race Theory) which has never been taught in Virginia (it’s an academic theory). CRT is being used as a bogey-man to squelch teaching the truth about the negative effects that slavery, the Jim Crow era, and structural racism have on African-Americans today.
BEFORE WE BAN ANYMORE BOOKS LET’S CHAT ABOUT SOME FACTS….
Beloved, by Toni Morrison is based on the true story of a Black slave woman, Margaret Garner, who in 1856 escaped from a Kentucky plantation with her husband, Robert, and their children. Even though it was the end of the Civil War, they were recaptured and were going to be returned to their owners, but Margaret who had been systematically raped and brutalized for years by her slave holders feared that the same would befall her daughter. So, she slit her throat and actually tried to kill her other three kids but failed. The book is brutal, terrifying, and heartbreaking. The Pulitzer Prize winning author Jane Smiley has noted the graphic violence in Beloved and has said: “Harriet Beecher Stowe was accused in her time of exaggerating the cruelties in Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and she replied that in fact she whitewashed events to render them publishable. Morrison is her heir, in the sense that she dares to discuss and publish more (though certainly not all) of the truth.”
Beloved won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1988.
Maus, by Art Spiegelman, (most recently unanimously banned by 10 school board members in McMinn county, Tennessee as an 8th grade reading selection) is a graphic novel based on true stories about Spiegelman’s Jewish parents living in 1940s Poland, their Nazi concentration camp horrors, his mother’s subsequent suicide, featuring interviews with his father about his dad’s experience as a Holocaust survivor. Maus was banned from the eighth-grade curriculum in a county in Tennessee, due to parental concerns about eight curse words, the sketch of a nude woman with the head of a mouse and body of a human (the Jews are mice and the Nazis are cats, Poles are pigs, Americans are dogs, the English are fish, the French are frogs, and the Swedes are deer), an aunt who poisons herself and her kids (mice) to help them escape capture by the Gestapo so that they won’t die in the gas chambers of Auschwitz.
Maus won the Pulitzer Prize for a graphic novel in 1992 (to date, the only graphic novel to do so), and Maus has been used for years to help teenagers wrap their heads around the evil of what can happen when man ignores his humanity.
Now here’s the thing: I am and always have been an over-bearing Christian mother (may God forgive me). The term “Helicopter Mom” doesn’t even begin to describe my parenting—try “Velcro Mom” or even yet: “Super Glue Mom”. (My kids say I’m getting better with age—one can only hope.) Would I have concerns if my 8th grader was assigned Maus and my 12th grader was assigned Beloved to read as part of their advanced and college-level English classes? Honestly? Yes!
Both books are horrifying in the description of the depth of cruelty that humans are capable of, and I would be afraid I had coddled my children much too much for them to handle such reality in print or any medium for that matter. Would I encourage the banning of the books for my kids? I’ve thought long and hard about this: No! (Unless my kids were extremely fragile and mentally unstable, then that’s an entirely different discussion and course of action.) As a parent, I would read the books along with my children (gulp!), have very embarrassingly open discussions about the “offensive parts” while constantly pointing toward the higher purposes and truth of both books, and I’d help them navigate the world of the past which could become their future if the history is never learned. In the words of Spanish philosopher George Santayana,“Those who don’t know history [or ignore history=my words] are destined to repeat it.”
Would it be emotionally difficult and very embarrassing? Hell, yes! It would probably be the hardest parenting I’d ever do because of the discomfort of it all—but these types of books are meant to make the reader feel deep, deep discomfort and pain. They are meant to hurt. Why? So that each new generation will dig deeper into their souls to find the solutions to keep humans from slip-sliding away into the darkness of man’s inhumanity to man. That each new generation will learn that they too are capable of doing great harm if they don’t protect Truth. Nothing offensive in Maus and Beloved (or other great literature like it) can even begin to come close to the reality of the history of the Holocaust and American Slavery. Man’s inhumanity to man has happened in the past, is still happening all over the globe, and we see evidence of it rearing its Satanic head in America during our present day. I would hope that because my kids had learned about the past, they’d be able to protect the future. Truth, via books and all the arts, will be our children’s best weapons to guard against and defeat the evil that rears its demonic head long after their parents are dead and gone*.
*In the past several years, the vehement complaints of White people who tour plantations have greatly increased when the history of the plantation’s slavery is presented during the tours. Even while standing in front of the slave houses or the markers of their graves, the visitors get disgusted and proclaim: “We are on vacation! We came here to be entertained—not to be grossed out!”
*Since the rise of Trump Republicanism, more and more school districts are trying to squelch not only the teachings about the truth of slavery and anti-semitism, but the books about LGBTQIA+ youth (All Boys Aren’t Bluehas been targeted for removal from schools and libraries in at least 14 states). And don’t even get me started about the continued erasure of the abuse and murder of millions of Native Americans from our textbooks. The book First Nations of North America: Plains Indians is on a list to be banned in Tennessee’s Williamson Countybecause it “paints White people in a negative light.”
CARTOON USED BY PERMISSION: 253222 It’s Only Offensive by Pat Byrnes, PoliticalCartoons com
“As the New York Times reported, the relentless flood of proposed book bans is dizzying in both scale and overtly political animus. The Daily Beast reported this week how a 10th grade English class in North Carolina is no longer allowed to read the acclaimed book Dear Martin, about a teen’s experience of racial profiling, after one parent complained that it contained profanity.”—Tim Timman, DAILY BEAST
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
The holiday remembering your birthday is upon us again, and I ain’t got nothin’ to say about you that hasn’t been said before. Not that I don’t regard you as one of my all-time favorite heroes, but the nation you tried to save from its shameful sin of slavery spouts a bunch of your quotes as platitudes every year, and yet, it is 2022, and we are in the midst of a major shit-show. Voting rights are slip-sliding away, and even White racists are quoting you to undergird their theft of democracy and truth. It’s as if you lived and died for nothing.
“Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom. A man can’t ride you unless your back is bent.”—Martin Luther King, Jr.
Cartoon used by permission: 258904 Voting Rights 2022 by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ
What? What’s that you say, Dr. King? Keep fighting? Don’t tell me I just need to persevere and keep the faith, Sir. I’ve been persevering for 73 years. I’m tired! And even though we’ve made some progress, it seems as if many White Republicans are trying to turn back the clock for Black folks, erase voting rights, and whitewash America’s true history. So as not to hold America accountable for its sins, they’ve created a bogeyman called “Critical Race Theory,” and many White parents are freaking out about the prospect of their children possibly learning the full truth of our American history of slavery and apartheid that little Black girls and boys’ souls and psyches have been branded with from birth. They’ve kicked that old adageto the curb that if we fail to remember history, we’ll be sure to repeat it.
“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”—Martin Luther King, Jr.
Cartoon used by permission: 256183 For the History Books by Pat Byrnes PoliticalCartoonscom
Dr. King, you sound like Jesus. I am tired of turning the other cheek. I just want to smack somebody—actually a whole bunch of somebodies—especially MAGA, Big Lie spouting, anti-vax crusaders, and anti-mask Christians who are trying to treat me and mine like second-class citizens in the name of Jesus. As harsh as this may sound, sometimes I wish they’d all get the Covid and die! Many people are saying we’re headed for another civil war, which is freaking me out! They’ve got the guns—all I’ve got is prayer. I’m thinking maybe I need some guns too because words and reason aren’t cutting it anymore. Who and what is going to protect me and mine from the haters? You can’t talk to these people. They refuse to listen.
“Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.” —Martin Luther King, Jr.
Love?! Did you rip off that Jesus quote: “Love your neighbor as yourself?” What are you trying to tell me, Dr. King?
Cartoon used by permission: 247613 Wisdom for the Right by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ
Okay, okay…I didn’t really mean that nasty stuff I said about wishing my enemies dead. I was just spouting off. I’m sorry! I’m just so frustrated that good seems to be losing and evil seems to be winning. I do wish we had another Martin Luther King to lead and guide us, though. We really could use another hero. Too bad you can’t come back.
“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.”—Barack Obama
President Obama? How did you slip into this conversation? Are you two ganging up on me? What are you saying to me? That Dr. King birthed the dream but now it is up to me, my children, and their children to complete the dream together with all the good-hearted people in America—no matter what their race, creed, or ethnicity? Oh…well, I guess I knew that all along, Dr. King. So, I better get back to work helping to fulfill your dream. I’ve been knocked down and bruised, but I’m not knocked out!
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
There hasn’t been a time since the evolution of mankind where Earth hasn’t been a scary place to dwell. There has never been a time in Earth’s history when there wasn’t poverty, wars and rumors of wars, intolerance, crooked leaders, slavery, murder, rape, genocide, plagues, disease, premature deaths, refugees, racism, monumental floods, ravaging fires, drought, hurricanes, tornadoes, and tsunamis—somewhere on the globe.
And yet, we are supposed to believe that a baby born in a manger thousands of years ago was/is the hope against all that mayhem. The reason to live. The courage to keep going. It’s almost impossible, and yet, I believe…
There was a time when my life was completely hopeless due to poverty, racism, and abuse—so much so, that I wished every day I had never been born. But somewhere on my journey, the birth of a baby born in a manger gave me hope and vision that saved me from myself and the people who tried to misname me. I was not the loveless prodigy of their concerted evil. I was (and still am) the Eleanor who was not a mistake. The Eleanor who was born to be a warrior, an overcomer, a leader, and a balm of grace through my talents—an addition to the Earth, not a subtraction.
I don’t believe in Santa Claus, but I do believe in the Christmas hope of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
HAVE A HOPEFUL, JOY-FILLED CHRISTMAS, MY FELLOW SEEKERS.
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Cartoon used by permission: 257287_1290_rgb (1).jpg Thanksgiving In spite of ourselves by Monte Wolverton Battle Ground WA
AN ODE TO MR. MELEAGRIS GALLOPAVOS
Thanksgiving is coming. Can I be honest with you? I don’t like anything about the featured guest: Le Turkey. I don’t like cooking it. I don’t like the way it tastes. I don’t like the way its leftovers hang around forever. I don’t like the way the remains keep popping up for months on end in soups, casseroles, burgers, salads, tetrazzini, pot pies, and even tacos! However, I love Le Turkey’s sidekicks: gravy, cranberry sauce, green beans, sweet potatoes (no marshmallows, please), mashed potatoes, stuffing (oh my God, do I love me some stuffing!), pecan pie with tons of whipped cream. I can’t imagine celebrating T-Day without those hip-expanding yummies.
My hatred of the turkey goes deeper than the culinary, however. When I was four years old, my mother took me into a place where they sold nothing but live chickens and turkeys. The room was the size of a one-car garage, the floor was barely discernable beneath the dust and debris, and the birds’ squawking was deafening. The poultry was in wooden cages and they were stacked against all four walls from floor to ceiling with a spillover of cages forming a fowl island in the middle of the store. If you could survive the smell, the patrons would choose a live bird to be slaughtered on the spot, and it would be taken home to be plucked and cooked. On this particular day a turkey, who stood taller than me, escaped his habitat and proceeded to terrorize me by chasing me around and around and around the butcher shop while pecking at my head and chubby legs until it drew blood. My nightmares revisited that hellish scene of turkey-on-chubby-little-Black-girl-violence for years to come.
Recently, I told some vegan friends of mine about my hatred of turkeys and my history with that one bird, and they said, “Oh my God Woman, you have turkey bias! You’re a turkey bigot.”
“Not really. I simply believe that the only good turkey is a dead turkey, but it doesn’t mean I have to like eating them. You don’t eat turkeys.”
“We don’t eat turkeys because we respect the turkey. We don’t eat anything that has a mother. We are all one on God’s great Earth. If you make peace with his animal planet, peace will be yours in return. For Turkey’s sake, Girlfriend, you can’t judge an entire race of turkeys by one bad fowl encounter. You’ve got to get out and get to know a few turkeys—to know them is to love them. Find out who they truly are—not to eat them, but to become one with them. You’re a communicator. Go find some turkeys and interview them.”
Well, that is what I did. It was a tad difficult because it seems the turkeys are on the lam—trying to avoid execution this week. However, I found a rebel group leader (Mr. Meleagris Gallopavos) who agreed to be interviewed via email if I did not reveal his whereabouts. So, I sent him a truncated copy of the Proust Questionnaire (a parlor game from the late 1800s made popular by the essayist and novelist Marcel Proust) that is usually used to access the true nature of humans. I figured it should work just fine on a bunch of jive-time turkeys.
Cartoon used by permission: 257001_1290_rgb.jpg Turkey Supply Chain by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com
PROUST ?: What is your idea of perfect happiness?
TURKEY:Thanksgiving is abolished from the land, and ALL Americans become vegetarians.
PROUST ?: What is your greatest fear?
TURKEY: Celebration of Thanksgiving becomes a monthly holiday.
PROUST ?: What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
TURKEY: That turkeys are such chicken-shits. We should have led a revolution against the eating of our kind as soon as we got wind of this whole Pilgrim/Indigenous People dinner party event back in the day. Nipped this T-Day sucker right in the bud.
PROUST ?: What is your current state of mind?
TURKEY: Shear panic! Every year approximately 45 million turkeys are eaten for Thanksgiving dinner. That’s 675 million pounds! You do the math: it’s only a matter of time before the butchers catch up with me and mine.
PROUST ?: On what occasion do you lie?
TURKEY: Whenever it suits me. I’ll throw a brother chicken into the oven in my place faster than you can say gobble-gobble.
Cartoon used by permission: 187876_1290_rgb.jpg Fake news turkeys by John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune
PROUST ?: What living person do you most despise?
TURKEY: The Farmer in the Dell. He takes a wife, a child, a nurse, a cow, a dog, a cat, a mouse, and even some cheese, but he never once saves a turkey. He had the political power as a farmer to change the genocidal trajectory of the turkey, but he did nothing. Well, I say “Hi-ho, the derry-o” to his sorry-ass.
PROUST ?: Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
PROUST ?: What or who is the greatest love of your life?
TURKEY: Oh Lord have mercy, my babies-mama! That chick heard my matting call from over a mile away and came running. She fell in love with my engorged snood, and the rest is history, Baby.
PROUST ?: What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
TURKEY: Being butchered, feathers plucked, and roasted at 350 degrees for five hours. Not to mention being smothered in a brown sludge that humans call gravy.
PROUST ?: Which historical figure do you most identify with?
TURKEY: Benjamin Franklin. Supposedly, he proposed that the turkey become the national bird instead of the bald eagle. (Actually, that story is a myth, but whatever.) He never slandered the turkey at least, but he sure ripped the Bald Eagle a new one: “…the Bald Eagle…is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly…[he] is too lazy to fish for himself.” So there. Why isn’t the Bald Eagle the juicy choice of slaughter for Thanksgiving?
PROUST ?: What are your most marked characteristics?
TURKEY: My eyes. They can see three times better than humans and I can see in color. My strut. I can run at 25 MPH. My feathers. To date, I have 5, 500 feathers! I am truly marvelous!
PROUST ?: What do you value in your friends?
TURKEY: That we are birds of a feather who flock together. In the wild, we have been known to travel in groups of 200 or more.
PROUST ?: What is it that you most dislike?
TURKEY: That my name is blasphemously used, and I don’t deserve that shit. If something is a dud, it’s a “turkey.” If a Broadway show fails, it’s called a “turkey.” If a human suddenly stops doing drugs, it’s called going “cold turkey.” In the seventies, an entire TV character’s main form of getting a laugh was when he called someone a “jive-turkey”—meaning, a fool. George Jefferson “moved on up to the East Side with a deee-luxe apartment in the sky,” but he ruined my family’s life by using our name in vain.
PROUST ?: Finally, what is your motto?
TURKEY: TLM. Turkey Lives Matter!
George Jefferson Meme/The Jeffersons TV Show (1975-1985)
ELEANOR’S SELAH
Whatever you eat for Thanksgiving, it’s not the meal that matters as much as it is the gratitude of being together. I implore you to put aside the rancor, the resentment, past hurts, and old grievances. What matters are the hugs, the smiles, the hope, the love, and the joy shared over a meal—be it turkey or tofu. Let’s be thankful for each other because if the last two years have proven anything: we are not guaranteed a tomorrow.
Cartoon used by permission: 257376_1290_rgb.jpg Being thankful by Rivers CagleCartoons com
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Photo Credit: E. Tomczyk/Busch Gardens Howl-O-Scream 2019
Below are a series of letters which I’m thinking of sending to our President to declare a moratorium on Halloween because shit’s already too damn scary in America.
DEAR PRESIDENT BIDEN (Letter #1): I’m writing to ask if you’d issue an Executive Order to cancel Halloween this year. I realize that you have a lot on your plate and absolutely nothing seems to be going well for you at the moment, however, I think allowing Halloween to proceed as usual will just make matters worse for you and for me.
Apparently, you and the First Lady are leaving town for Halloween and skipping off to the G-20 Summit anyway. For the first time in years, Halloween at the White House has been cancelled. That’s a great idea. I think you had a hunch that this Halloween wasn’t worth honoring. I mean, think about it. Who needs Freddy Krueger showing up at your house when we’re in the midst of a pandemic, domestic terrorism, run-amuck racism, anti-vax morons, Republicans that would like to see you rot in Hell, and, as for me, a new coat and cute throw pillows marooned at sea on a cargo ship that probably won’t dock until after Christmas?
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT (Letter #2): It is my humble opinion that the entire country is already demon-possessed without the help of Halloween ghouls. Have you been on an airplane lately and encountered a passenger beating the crap out of a flight attendant just because she asked the monster to cover their nose with his or her mask? No? I suppose that doesn’t happen on Air Force One. Given many of the passengers’ over-the-top responses reported in the news, one would think the flight attendant had asked the traveler to cut out his/her/their mother’s liver and fry it up with fava beans and serve the dish with a glass of Chianti. Not only are the American people possessed—at least 75 million at my last count—but I’m beginning to think that so are inanimate objects (i.e., airplanes). America is just one sucked-out brain, zombie apocalypse away from a total nervous breakdown from flying to and fro in these tin tubes of torture.
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT: (Letter #3): My latest conspiracy theory is that airplanes are demon-possessed, which might account for some of the outbreaks of madness happening within them. Let me lay on you an anecdotal travel story that might shed some light on this theory. Recently, I flew across the country to visit my newly minted grandbaby. I was fully prepared against the Covid zombies because I got two vaccine shots plus a booster, secured scores of N95 masks for the trip, and packed dozens of Clorox wipes to disinfect everything on the plane from the pilot to my tray table. All went well on the flights to Seattle to see my granddaughter, but nothing prepared me for the heart attack the airline zombie tried to cause me on my return.
Mr. President, upon approaching Chicago from Seattle, the plane suddenly began to violently twist and dip as the pilot barked over the loudspeaker: “All flight attendants back to your seats; all passengers fasten your seat belts, and I don’t care if you’ve had to pee since we left Seattle—now’s the time to hold it!”
Twenty minutes later, the pilot spoke again, but this time I could have sworn I heard a diabolical chuckle rumbling out of the left engine: “We’re approaching our destination but due to unexpected weather we’ll have to blow past Chicago, swing over into Indiana and approach Chicago from the East. For those of you who flunked geography, let’s just say, making your next connection may be a little Herculean.”
“Surely, they will hold the connecting plane for us,” said naïve me to no one in particular.
Ten minutes later, the plane landed in Chicago, and the pilot spoke again: “Well folks, as you can see, we’ve landed, but because we were late and came in from the East instead of from the West, there are no gates available for us to unload. Stay seated. Stay buckled. Stay tuned until we solve this mess.”
Nine minutes later when the plane stopped at the sanctioned gate, the following message exploded on half of the cell phones of passengers scheduled to connect to Richmond, VA and beyond: “This is the last flight tonight back to Richmond. If you don’t make this flight, Chicago would love to have you stay for the night. Your connecting gate is a 17 minute walk from here. Your plane leaves in 5 minutes!” As a collective groan permeated the air, I am almost sure I heard our plane burp out a raucous “BRAH-HA-HA-HA!” as my husband screamed at me: “Run, Forrest, run!”
Cartoon used by permission: 248179_1290_rgb (1).jpg Air Travel and Covid by Jeff Koterba CagleCartoons com
Mr. President, I am a 73-year-old Black woman, slightly chunky with massive boobs, which I discovered have the ability to take flight when one is moving at the speed of light, and they have the potential to knock ones’ eyes out. I also discovered that one can barely breathe when one has worn a N95 mask for 12 straight hours, but when forced to run like Elaine Thompson-Herah in a mask, one enters into a claustrophobic stinky-breath chamber of the beginnings of a heart attack. At one point, all I could remember were fellow passengers scattering in my wake and me screaming to my husband in my hysterical state:
“Keep going, Honey. Leave me. Save yourself!”
Of course, we’ve known each other for almost 50 years so he knew better than to leave me behind because I know where he lives.
We crossed the threshold onto the plane just as the door was being prepped to close. I faintly heard the flight attendant ask me if I was okay. (She must have noticed my throbbing temples, my audible gasping for air, my heaving chest, and my eyes rolling back into my head—all the while keeping on my mask, mind you.) A millennial from our other flight staggered on after us and was so surprised to see I had made the flight before he did, that he loudly applauded my triumphant feat to the rest of the passengers. I shot him a look of furious indignation and muttered into my mask: “I fucking hate Chicago, I fucking hate this airline, I fucking hate N95 masks, and I fucking hate smug millennials!”
PHOTO CREDIT: E. Tomczyk/Busch Gardens Howl-O-Scream 2019
Mr. President, the plane took off with only half its passenger list. (I could have sworn I heard the plane cut lose a diabolical laugh, but then again maybe it was only one of the engines backfiring or my heart exploding.)
It was the survival of the fittest who made that connection. If you were pregnant, if you had babies, if you were old, if you needed a wheel chair, if the Chicago zombies got you before you could make it off the first plane, if you fainted from your heart imploding getting from C-Gate through the colorful light tunnel and down the convoluted corridors to E-Gate, then you never made it back home that night.
Why couldn’t they have held the plane? That would have been the humane thing to do. Instead, the attendant offered me a drink—copious drinks to be exact. I did not want a drink—all I wanted to do was smack somebody! I’m not saying my reaction was correct, polite, godly, or wise. I’m just saying that the demonic plane and the zombie airlines conspired to suck out all the kindness and grace from my being on that trip, and I can understand how the American traveler is fed up and on the edge of implosion at any given moment—especially in the midst of a zombie pandemic.
BTW, Mr. President, they barely fed me but constantly pushed alcohol on me. You see where I’m going with this? Copious alcohol + no food + lack of airline travel grace = one gigantic zombie apocalypse.
Once again, who needs to celebrate Halloween when scary shit happens on your way home from visiting your grandbaby.
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT (Letter #4): No sooner had I returned from my plane travel through Hell, a friend told me that while I was gone, some MAGA dude who lives in my planned community was seen strolling up and down his street with an AR-15 strapped to his chest trying to enlist his neighbors to join him in arming our community with guns to protect the “rich White people” from the Black Lives Matter groups that he was convinced were coming to burn down their homes. White people do make up the majority in this golf community, but we also have Black folks (me being one of them), Asian folks, Hispanic folks, Indian folks, and Gay and Lesbian folks who live here.
It didn’t take much digging to ascertain what street this fool lived on, and lo-and-behold, it is a street I walk past every day on the wooded pathway. My heart stopped. I immediately had a flashback to 35 years ago when I was taking a walk, and a White woman who looked to be in her sixties swerved her car across my path and verbally assaulted me for walking past her house. She demanded to know what was in my pockets (a Walkman with my favorite music on a loop and some gum), and ordered that I not be there when she returned, or else…
Mr. President,I was 40+ years old at the time, married with two children, a college degree, and went to the church right down the road. If the state where this happened had been an open-carry or even concealed weapon state at the time, I could have been Ahmaud Arbery (25-year-old unarmed Black man out jogging in a Georgia community who was gunned down by neighbors because they assumed he was up to no good). I can’t remember now if the old White woman who attacked me clearly heard me say the paragraph that damned her before her god, but I sure hope she did: “But I’m your neighbor; I live around the corner in that pretty cedar house with the immaculate landscaping, and I’ve walked past your home everyday for six months—it’s just that I am usually with two of my White neighbors or my White husband. Didn’t you see me then—can you not see me now? Is this a trick?”
Who needs Halloween to scare us when we have treats like my community’s MAGA dude with AR-15s hunting Black folks who are just trying to live their lives?
Cartoon used by permission: 256645_1290_rgb.jpg Zuckerbergs Witchbook by Christopher Weyant The Boston Globe MA
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT (Letter #5): This is the last letter of my petition requesting you shut down Halloween this year because life in America is already too scary. Regarding my previous letter, I just wanted to add that most of the people in my community are lovely. I do believe the AR-15 guy is an outlier. But all it takes is one Freddy Krueger to terrorize a community.
I want you to know that I did stroll past the MAGA dude’s street (on the opposite side) the other day, and as I was admiring the Halloween decorations on the corner house, sure enough—like lightening—a guy in a white luxury sedan came barreling down the street and pulled up short of the stop sign. He made no attempt to move on. He just sat there and stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.
I stared right back at him—waiting for him to challenge my existence in my own community.
I was dressed to the nines in my usual sassy garden hat with matching Lululemon Athletica apparel—in full makeup—false eyelashes and all. My head phones were plugged into my iPod playing Gospel music. I had on my ankle brace because apparently, I twisted my left ankle in the Great Chicago Airport sprint a week before, and my chic athletic outfit was topped off with a carved walking stick—perfectly suitable for a 73-year-old fashionista Black Lives Matter activist out to burn down a couple White people’s houses as she took her morning constitutional in the community where she lives. Good grief!
As I stared at the driver in the idling car, and he stared back at me, I wondered if this scenario might indeed turn into an Ahmaud Arbery situation. Fortunately for me, a couple of my White neighbors came along on the path, greeted me effusively and warmly, and I tagged along with them down the trail while the man in the white car slowly, and what seemed to be reluctantly, turned in the opposite direction once it was clear I wasn’t a Black Life he could terrorize.
Happy Halloween, Mr. President. Whether you cancel Halloween this year or not, blessing be to you and your family. I pray for you daily. Hang in there. I will too. The monsters can’t live forever—I hope (gulp!).
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Cartoon used by permission: 256683_1290_rgb.jpg Tainted Halloween candy by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
If I could have a face-to-face, heart-to-heart talk with Jesus, I’d ask him: why oh Lord, how long oh Lord?
God only knows, I am so tired of trauma and drama that I could just scream! I think I’ve prayed 196,000 one-word prayers (HELP!) in the past two months spilling the tea to Jesus about what is happening here in America. I feel compelled to potentially get on his nerves by constantly bombarding the Lord with tales like: “Did you see that Jesus? White evangelicals have gone bat-shit crazy in your name—consequently they are killing us! A high percentage of White Evangelical preachers are telling their congregations not to get vaccinated because of various conspiracy theories that they are pushing (all attached to you, Lord Jesus) being against the vaccines. The ‘Big Lie’ (Biden didn’t win the presidency) infuses all the other lies: Covid-19 is a hoax, vaccine mandates are a hoax (they aren’t the only ones who believe this but they definitely started the fire), Dr. Fauci is a hoax, climate change is a hoax, science is a hoax, our fair-voting system is a hoax, slavery was a hoax, the mainstream media are a hoax, Black Lives Matter is a hoax, Black people in general are a hoax…. I don’t want to tell you how to run your shop, but in case you haven’t noticed, because of their lies, we’re dying in droves down here!”
Cartoon used by permission: 255677_1290_rgb.jpg Word From on High by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT
I read today that the reason so many Evangelicals believe in the Big Lie is because they said Jesus said that Trump was his anointed man and therefore would win the 2020 election by a landslide. When that didn’t happen (because they made this bullshit up, and slapped a “thus saith, the Lord” on it), rather than stone the prophets who falsely “prophesied” this nonsense (I hear that’s what they used to do back in the day of Old Testament Bible times), Right-wing Evangelicals decided they could never do the humble thing and admit they were wrong, instead they decided the best thing to do was embrace the Big Lie (and all its appendages) that the election was stolen, that God’s will was thwarted, and that they best fight to the death because, after all, “God said.”
Cartoon used by permission: 255437_1290_rgb.jpg January 6th Rally by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ
Now I know God never declared any such thing, but it is my word (and all other sane people) against theirs. Unfortunately, there are so many of them, and they don’t want to hear a word from me or others like me. That’s why I think it would really be so beneficial if God would make a one-time appearance in the sky and simultaneously declare in every language:
“Listen up creation, this is your God. Ignore the Right-wing Evangelicals preachers and idiots in general. STOP THE MADNESS! Here is my mission for you: You’ve got approximately 30 years to save the Earth if you start last month, minutes to stop killing off your family, friends, and neighbors by getting vaccinated with the gift of shots that I sent you through science, and seconds to start loving your fellow woman/man as you love yourself which I modeled for you. But I’m not going to do it for you. That’s why I gave you brains! Over-and-out, God.”
In the meantime, I am almost undone. I don’t know how to live in this world today. A precious new granddaughter was just born into our family, and I can barely enjoy the thought of her without being overwhelmed with sadness about the world I’m leaving her. Call me naïve, but I expected four things to happen in 2021:
that once we got the vaccines rolled out, most of our citizens would do the right thing and get the shots to protect themselves and each other
that the vaccines would not allow any leapfrog of the virus over the wall of the vaccines
that once we pried Trump’s fat fingers off the Oval Office power, he’d sink into a molehill on one of his golf courses and disappear instead of sitting on the sidelines raising hell and planning his authoritarian takeover of the Presidency in 2024
that I’d get back to some type of normalcy in life because all this shit would be done and gone
Well, crap, those things didn’t happen!
Cartoon used by permission: 255511_1290_rgb.jpg Milley Moment by Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune MN
How am I supposed to function in the midst of an apocalypse because I am truly exhausted? Trump is causing all sorts of disgusting mayhem. Rather than go away, he has gotten louder, more demonic, and more dangerous. Apparently, we’re charting 2,000 deaths per day from the Delta variant (one American dies every 43 seconds since March 1st)—IT IS NOT GOING AWAY, PEOPLE! I’ve become very aware that we’re going to be dealing with some variant of Covid-19 for a long, long time, and our country could very well sink into an authoritarian regime in the near future led by good ol’ self-righteous, born-again Christians (can we say American Taliban, anyone?) who reinstate Trump as President or someone even worse. Afghanistan, Haiti, floods, wildfires, hurricanes, lying politicians, and lying preachers! What shall I do? Where shall I go? How shall I live?
The other day my acupuncturist, who sometimes doubles as my psychiatrist, told me that she thinks I have “Pandemic Stress Disorder,” and I needed to snap out of it. My response was: “No shit, Sherlock—do you live on this planet?” She said, “you’re not alone—many, many others feel the same way as you do.” It was after my session with Ms. Acupuncturist that I read an article by Brad Stulberg (Time.com), who said we all are suffering from “collective fatigue.” In Brad’s article—Why You Feel So Tired all the Time—he says we are “replacing excitement with anxiety.” I think what he means is that we all need regular bouts of good excitement in our lives to give us energy and joy, such as vacations, dinners out, family reunions, concerts, sporting events, keeping up with current events, visiting one’s newborn grandchild (my major priority), but none of these things can happen without a lot of stress attached to engaging in these activities due to the pandemic and all the other depressing mess happening in our world (anti-mask folks beating up flight attendants on planes).
“There are, of course, many reasons for our collective fatigue: a year-and-a-half-long pandemic, social unrest and democratic backslide—to name a few. But even beyond these obvious drivers, I think there is something else going on: We are replacing excitement with anxiety.” *—Brad Stulberg, Author of The Practice of Groundedness)
Cartoon used by permission: 255461_1290_rgb.jpg Happily Ever After by Christopher Weyant The Boston Globe MA
I told my acupuncturist about Brad Stulberg’s theory, and I said: “If what he says is true, how am I supposed to live?”
“In the now,” said the acupuncturist.
“Right now,” Ms. Acupuncturist said, “you are on my table, receiving treatment that will hopefully help your physical and mental ailments. There is nothing else happening in this room except that. Trump is not here, and don’t bring him into this room via your thoughts. Preachers misleading their congregations with false information are not here in this room. When Trump or the nutty preachers pop into your brain, kick them out. If your images of them don’t go away, pray for them. You’re a woman of faith, pray that they all will wake up and embrace the truth, and then leave it in God’s hands. Listen to the soothing music, and listen to my voice. We’re both vaccinated and wearing masks, so when thoughts of thousands dying from Covid-19 slip into your brain, let those thoughts go—don’t entertain the fear of ‘what if their selfishness affects my family, and my loved ones die.’ It isn’t happening at this moment, and that is all you can control—now! Then do this exercise in the next moment after this, and the next moment after that, and the next. There will be plenty of time to fight the good fight that you have control over, and when you’re in that moment, do so—fight with all your strength! Other than that, dwell on gratitude and love. It’s not easy, but you’re going to have to do this in order to live because this shit’s not going away anytime soon!”
I took her advice. That is how I’ve begun to live—moment by moment. I can’t control people who refuse to do the right thing, but I will choose to do the right thing and protect my sanity and my health. In fact, I’ve memorized the Serenity Prayer and say it to myself every morning before my feet hit the ground—especially the first six lines:
“God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time…”
(TODAY’S 196,001 PRAYER: Dear God: Did you read the latest Right-Wing conspiracy theory headline? “Breitbart Writer is begging Trumpers to get vaccinated because he claims ‘Organized Left’ uses ‘reverse psychology’ by mocking the MAGA unvaccinated to ‘trick’ people into purposely refusing ‘Trump Vaccine,’ because it will benefit Joe Biden and the Dems if scores of Trumpers simply drop dead.” God, please tell these stupid people to just take the damn shot!)
Cartoon used by permission: 255054_1290_rgb.jpg How can they be so dense by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Cartoon used by permission: 250639_1290_RGB.jpg Four Horsemen by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT
NEWS HEADLINES IN AMERICA JULY 30, 2021
The Delta Whiplash is Here—The Atlantic
CDC warns that delta variant is as contagious as chickenpox and may make people sicker than original Covid—CNBC
Broadway Audiences Will Need Proof of Vaccination and Masks—NYTimes
‘What’s Covid?’ Why People at America’s Hardest-Partying Lake Are Not About to Get Vaccinated—Politico
They Spurned the Vaccine. Now They Want You to Know They Regret It—The NYTimes
How Trump’s ‘World of Bullshit’ Unleashed Today’s Delta Surge—Daily Beast
Cartoon used by permission: 253854 Two Americas by David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star, Tucson, AZ
On July 30, 2021, the above headlines announced to a divided America that we were starting to lose the war AGAIN against death and doom because a tenacious offshoot of Covid-19—the Delta variant—was reeking murderous havoc due to 100 million Americans (many of them motivated by support for Donald Trump) having ignored or thumbed their noses at the vaccines. The conversation belowfrom Hell between Death and Satan can only be imagined.
DEATH:Hey Dude, how’s it hangin’?
SATAN:I just got back from roaming the Earth, seeking whom I may devour!
DEATH: That’s very Shakespearean of you.
SATAN: That’s very biblical of me: Father of Lies, The Great Destroyer, Beelzebub, Lucifer…
DEATH: Whatever! You’re such a drama queen. I got your message that you needed to see me. I sure hope this meeting is productive because I don’t have any time to waste. As the Angel of Death assigned to the Special Death Forces Unit of the USA, I have never been busier. By the way, I could have used a head’s up before you unleased your nephew, Lieutenant Delta.
Cartoon used by permission: 253624 delta-force-go.png Delta Force Go by Pat Byrnes PoliticalCartoons com
SATAN: Hey, I barely knew about his invasion date myself. Been too busy trying to make room for all the incoming traffic. Besides, even I’m afraid of Delta—he’s a nasty little punk-ass SOB. I’m the Devil, and I can’t control him. But I must say, Delta’s invasion married well with the reckless, stubborn, arrogant, and stupid refusal of the Trump anti-vaxxers to get vaccinated and to wear masks. It seems my conspiracy theories that I pushed on Facebook, Fox News and via the Republican Party really did the trick. Those I didn’t capture with self-centeredness, I captured with fear. I especially liked the conspiracy theory that the vaccines will make you magnetic. So stupid, it’s delicious! Don’t you just love that Mark Zuckerberg from Facebook? The dude has no accountability to truth or humanity, which suits me just fine since that is my raison d’etre. We have a wager down here in Hell to see who will kill the most people from Covid-19 with their wanton pushing of fake news, lies, and misinformation: Zuckerberg or Trump. What’s your wager, Death?
Cartoon used by permission: 253636 heard-stupidity.png Heard Stupidity by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoonscom
DEATH: How the hell should I know? All I know is that you’re going to get legions more now that Delta has unleashed his troops. You should hear the anti-vaxxers’ hissy fits and screams over the CDC’s recommendation to return to masks to save them from the Delta variant. You would think that they were being asked to pour hot boiling oil on their skin and set it afire. I have no pity for them. More than 40% of Americans are unvaxxed, and they make up 97% of all Covid hospitalizations and 97% of my Covid death haul. The Americans are running out of room in their hospitals.
SATAN: Hm, call me an ol’ softie, but every once in a while, I feel a tiny pang of sorrow for those who can’t get the vaccine who get caught up in your death net—especially the children.
DEATH: Well, I don’t. I have no dog in this race. I feel absolutely nothing. Besides, I have a feeling the innocents by-pass you Pal and take the escalator to the celestial city in the sky. Anyway, it might not be too late for the innocent and the arrogant. Their President is stopping short of a Federal mandate that all Americans get vaccinated, and he seems to be encouraging businesses to mandate vaccines if people want to stay employed or attend events in their venues. The anti-vaxxers are flipping out, of course—their heads are exploding. Republicans are already lining up the lawsuits against the government and any businesses that try to “tread on their rights.”
Cartoon used by permission: 253910 anti-vax-covid-spreaders.png Anti Vax Covid Spreaders by Peter Kuper PoliticalCartoonscom
SATAN:Pish-shah! Nobody in America can mandate vaccines. It’s against their laws. Americans have rights and their rights outweigh any responsibilities that they have towards anybody but themselves. They are so goddamn selfish, which is why I adore them so much—favorite group of humans on Earth. Besides, the demons and I were taking a coffee break yesterday, and we saw a segment on MSNBC that said 1 in 4 hospital staff workers aren’t vaccinated and don’t ever plan to be. The lunchroom in Hell erupted in cacophonous cheers and chants: “Go Master, go Master; you did it, you did it—more inmates in Hell!” You know that when the people who swore an oath to “abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous” and to “do no harm” as healers refuse to embrace science and the truth, then the rest of the American public is so screeeeewed!
Cartoon used by permission: 253687 anti-vaxx-menace.png Anti vaxx menace by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT
DEATH: False! Vaccine mandates in America are not entirely unprecedented. I, too, watch MSNBC and just happened to catch the Rachel Maddow show that aired a segment on the 1901 Smallpox epidemic in Cambridge, Massachusetts that was wiping out the city. According to the Maddow show and the New England Historical Society, by 1905, 400,000 of Cambridge’s citizens had been vaccinated, but that was not enough to get control of the deadly pox. The Cambridge Board of Health decided they weren’t havin’ that shit, so they mandated that all their citizens be vaccinated or pay a $5 fine ($150 in today’s currency). Well, wouldn’t you know it, but a minister (Henning Jacobson) who claimed he was hearing God, declared that he had the God-given right to govern his own body as he saw fit despite safety for the common good, and he challenged the mandate in court all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—Jacobson v. Massachusetts. He lost and the citizens of Cambridge were saved from my scythe. If I remember correctly, the law says:
“There is, of course, a sphere within which the individual may assert the supremacy of his own will and rightfully dispute the authority of any human government, especially of any free government existing under a written constitution…But it is equally true that in every well-ordered society charged with the duty of conserving the safety of its members the rights of the individual in respect of his libertymay at times, under the pressure of great dangers, be subjected to such restraint, to be enforced by reasonable regulations, as the safety of the general public may demand.”
Cartoon used by permission: 253890_1290_RGB.jpg Masks Again by Kevin Siers The Charlotte Observer NC
SATAN: Well, I’ll be damned!
DEATH: You already are.
SATAN: Shut up, you show-off! In any case, I need you to buy me some time.So many people are dying so quickly, and while I love new recruits, I need to build on a wing to prepare for them. I’m not even half-full yet, but I would like to make sure that I don’t lose a soul because I didn’t have enough beds of hot coals ready and prepared. Just a month or so. Can you swing it?
DEATH: Fine. But you owe me one. I can’t stop the deaths, but I can try and slow them down. I’ll run a Public Service Announcement and place the ad on Facebook, Fox News, and all the conservative websites on the Internet. Maybe, it will set a fire under their asses (no pun intended) to hold off their Earthly exit for a while.
SATAN: Deal!
PSA FROM DEATH
To the American Public: My name is Death, and I belong to no political party. I neither love nor hate Trump. I have no racial, ethnic, religious, or sexual identity. I don’t care if you’re fat or skinny, short or tall. I don’t care if you just want to “stick it to the Libs” or you’re African-American and fear the Tuskegee Experiment redux. It makes me no never mind if you’re one-day-old or ninety-nine-years old. I never sleep. If it is your time to have a meet-and-greet with me due to your lack of protection against Covid-19, I’m coming for you. You mean only one thing to me: a harvest. I have no pity for your excuses, lies, or disillusionments. This isn’t personal; I’m just doing my job. So, if you don’t want to see me anytime soon, or even worse, have me introduce myself to your precious children, I have the following suggestions:
GET YOUR SHOTS
WEAR YOUR MASKS
Cartoon used by permission: 253882_1290_RGB.jpg Teeing Up Covid by Pat Bagley The Salt Lake Tribune UT
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Cartoon used by permission: 251036_RGB_1290.jpg Leaving COVID hibernation by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
On May 16, 2021, the CDC posted the following notice on its website:
If you are fully vaccinated, you can resume activities that you did prior to the pandemic.
Fully vaccinated people can resume activities without wearing a mask or physically distancing, except where required by federal, state, local, tribal, or territorial laws, rules, and regulations, including local business and workplace guidance.
If you haven’t been vaccinated yet, (what the fuck is wrong with you?)find a vaccine. (Feisty interpretation, italics and underlining—mine, not the CDC’s—although I’m pretty sure it’s what they were thinking when they wrote this!)
In the middle of May, a slightly chunky African-American grandmother awoke from a Rip Van Winkle state of somnolence feeling lost in time and space. She had existed in a Covid-19 pandemic for what she calculated to be approximately 456 days of semi-isolation (the semi being with her darling husband). She’d done practically nothing, gone practically nowhere, and seen practically no one without being socially distanced, double masked, and brandishing a Lysol Disinfectant can as if it were a Colt 45 permanently taped to her right hand with mounds of Duct tape. Now she was being told by her government to get out there, remove her mask, put away her wipes, and welcome the world with open arms—as long as those she hugged were vaccinated and scrubbed down with hand sanitizer (the grandma added this last requirement to be on the safe side) .
Cartoon used by permission: 251685_RGB_1290.jpg New Public Service by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com
But how was she to know who had been vaccinated? She didn’t know about anybody else, but after the Trump years, she didn’t trust some of her fellow Americans as far as she could throw them (approximately 74 million of them to be exact). The fact that so many of them were anti-science, anti-Covid vaccinations, and pro-conspiracy theories was disconcerting to say the least. Many of them were still lying about the results of the Presidential election so how was she supposed to trust them to follow the rules as she emerged from a year-and-a-half lockdown? She thought to herself: “The Republicans were crazy as Hell before the lockdown—now they’ve completely lost their minds during the pandemic. It’s going to be like the wild-wild west out there.”
“On the other hand,” she thought, “do I even want to mingle with the masses again? They weren’t that great before I went into hiding.” To be very honest with you—she didn’t really like most people. I mean she liked her family and friends, but she didn’t suffer fools lightly so why bother kicking it with people she didn’t trust? (She’d already announced to no one in particular that she wouldn’t be returning to the canasta club because it was full of Trump Republicans, and she had no grace for that crazy shit anymore!) Anyway, unlike some people, she hadn’t minded the lockdown that much. She missed seeing her children and grandson, but her family had really made that Zoom thing work like a charm with vibrant, transparent conversations, birthday parties, and an all-day Christmas celebration. The 64-million-dollar question for her was how to “re-enter” the world without getting damaged or killed. Should she? Could she?
Cartoon used by permission: 251696_RGB_1290.jpg The CDC masking advice by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com
Every time our septuagenarian grandma read the news, Americans were hurting and killing each other—acting like fools—as if murdering their fellow human beings was their raison d’etre. Mass shootings every other day, horrific road rage incidents, and countless violent encounters on airplanes spilled forth like raging lava from an erupting volcano. The world hadn’t gotten any better since she’d been in hiding. It seemed meaner—hellbent on destroying everything and everyone in its mean-spirited path. Instead of being grateful that they had survived, many people (especially the MAGA hats) were mad as hell, and they wanted to hurt others just for looking at them crossways or asking them to wear a mask or get a shot.
Cartoon used by permission: 252208_RGB_1290.jpg Pandemic of shootings by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
“Maybe I should just stay in my house where all is peaceful and serene,” our Grandmother thought. “After all, I’m old and I don’t need much. I’ve got my man, a wine cabinet, Netflix, a century’s worth of books, and our groceries can be delivered. I’ve given Amazon so much money during the pandemic, I’m on a first name basis with Jeff Bezos. If Amazon doesn’t have what I want, I’m sure Jeff will reward my loyalty and go to the moon to get it for me.” The compromise made her happy for a nano second, but then she remembered her children who lived on both coasts, and it made her sad. She desperately wanted to see her children, her grandson, and granddaughter to come (she had to be there for that birth!), but the thought of getting back out there to mix it up with crazy-ass strangers was exhausting. Getting on a plane to go anywhere would force her to engage with any type of person at any moment who might erupt in mean-spiritedness and craziness. No, it would be better to have the kids come to her—best to stay put and stay safe. The pandemic seemed to have messed with people’s hearts and minds, so if our grandmother stayed sequestered, she reasoned, then she wouldn’t encounter any of this mayhem. Stay home, avoid people, and consequently avoid the mess.
Then one day, an unhinged White house painter arrived at the sequestered grandmother’s house.
Cartoon used by permission: 252604_RGB_1290.jpg COVID hibernation by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com
Mema had previously reasoned that if she was going to stay put and have her family and friends come to her, then she might as well get the house spruced up for their homecoming. So, she called an affable and efficient painter she’d used for a few years, ascertained that he had been vaccinated, and made known her wishes.
At first, things went along as usual. A few pleasantries were exchanged (“How’s your wife and kid?” “How’s your husband?) which were normal. However, the painter did make an inappropriate comment about how the grandmother (old enough to be his mother) didn’t look her age and he knew why. “That’s because Black don’t crack!” said the White man with glee as if they’d been lifelong drinking buddies!Mema wanted to tell him that he didn’t know her that well to make such an inappropriate crack, but she decided to cut him some slack because she figured the pandemic had zapped a portion of his brain and his manners. The contract was agreed upon: deposit paid upfront and rest of total paid upon completion of job—as always. The grandmother paid the deposit and went on about her business.
Soon it became clear that the pandemic had zapped not only the painter’s manners but also his business credibility and his civility. The White painter went from an inappropriate racial stereotype, to falling behind on the job, to demanding more money before the delayed job was finished (the grandmother said, “no Dude, I’m no fool—read your contract”), to the pièce de résistance. When the grandmother kindly asked when the delayed job would be finished, the White painter (young enough to be her son) turned on the Black grandmother with raged-filled eyes and angrily barked, “What business is it of yours when we finish, ______” (the word “Bitch” was not audible, but the grandmother heard it loud and clear as if it were a cacophonous thunderclap, sucker punched into her heart by Zeus).
Cartoon used by permission: 249634_RGB_1290.png Post Pandemic Stress by Dave Whamond Canada PoliticalCartoons com
“Post-pandemic anxiety in the flesh,” Mema thought. “Road rage on my own property—is anyplace really safe?” she asked herself as she swallowed her anger, quietly defused the situation, and slowly backed away into the house to call her husband. Needless to say, the painter lost a major job we had planned with him for the future as my husband went into his own post pandemic-rage and declared: “That man is not allowed to step foot on our property ever again!”
Mema could tell that once the words came out of the painter’s mouth, he knew that he had blown it—overstepped his boundaries. The grandmother truly wished the painter had apologized. If he had, she would have forgiven him (but by the grace of God go us all, right?). But she watched as his pride hardened his heart, and he sullenly slumped off toward his truck. Why did the painter say what he said to our sweet, chubby little grandmother? Was it because she was a woman? An old woman? A Black woman? Would the painter have spoken to a man like that? Spoken to a White man like that? Mema couldn’t answer any of those questions, but it showed her something very significant about her own life: Nowhere and no one was totally safe against the post-pandemic anxiety of their fellow man. She determined that she was anxious too, but hiding out in her home was no panacea. “Hell no! I won’t stay at home and miss out on what little life I have left” the grandmother said. On that note, she decided to summon her courage, leave her house, and visit her children, grandchildren, and friends as much and as often as possible because the old woman realized that she couldn’t control the attitudes and reactions of others—she could only control her reaction to them. And so, armed with an extra layer of grace and brotherly love, Mema booked her plane tickets and set off for New York City and Seattle to hug and kiss her babies… and their babies.
Cartoon used by permission: 251477_RGB_1290.jpg Out of the Covid cocoon by David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star Tucson AZ
INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES FOR STAYING SANE IN A POST-PANDEMIC ANXIOUS WORLD
“Now that the world is reopened, we may see less patience, more irritability, less stress tolerance because people have been trying to hold it together for so long. Even though they are finally able to ‘relax,’ they remain on edge because the effects of the mental stress over the past year do not go away overnight.”—Dr. Crystal Clark of the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine.
“The differences we have on this planet are real. They’re profound. And they cause enormous tragedy as well as joy. But we’re just a bunch of humans with doubts and confusion. We do the best we can. And the best thing we can do is treat each other better, because we’re all we got.”—President Barack Obama
Cartoon used by permission: 252159_RGB_1290.jpg Virus Doesn’t Take a Holiday by John Darkow Columbia Missourian
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a satirist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
In keeping with the 100th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, I’ve repurposed a post (previously titled: “I’m Black and I Don’t Like Black History Month”). I have excerpted the Tulsa portion and updated the cartoons to underscore the spiritual connection I’ve found between the White Evangelical churches and the rise of the KKK who were deeply entrenched in their churches as preachers, deacons, choir members, Sunday school teachers, and racial haters. After much research—as a Black Born-Again believer in Jesus—I hold the White Evangelical churches, especially in the South, solely responsible for the Tulsa Massacre.
Cartoon used by permission: 252058_RGB_1290.png Tulsa Race Massacre 1921 by Dave Granlund PoliticalCartoons com
I wish Black history would simply be American History–told with searing honesty in our schools and religious houses so that profound conversations could ensue and an even deeper understanding could emerge to confront what is needed to really see how much damage the stain of slavery and the subsequent Jim Crow Laws did to our collective American souls, and how that stain still runs painfully deep. White people need to be healed from the damage of all that immoral racial DNA as much as Black folks do who were the victims of it. Instead, many White people hope and declare that racism is over (“After all, I voted for Obama—twice!” or they declare, “Obama is the spawn of Satan”), and most Black people limp along—permanently scarred—robbed of generational wealth and talent.
I attended mostly White churches for most of my “born again” years and I never, ever, ever heard the leaders speak of the responsibility their churches had in purging the sin of racism of their fathers in order to bring about racial healing. (It was the covert racism against President Obama masked in politics that caused me to flee the movement all together.) Just recently I saw a picture which broke my heart and caused me to research the White Evangelicals’ complicity with racism in America.
KKK thought to be in Portland, OR 1920/Photographer unknown/Public Domain
Do you know what I discovered? This evil shit is in White Evangelicals spiritual DNA! Jesus plus the Ku Klux Klan?! Hello?!The deep discussions we need to have about race can’t be had until we recognize how much systemic racism is ingrained in and through White Christianity and how that coupling has made so much of the hateful antics against African-Americans “okay” in such a way that its tentacles are intertwined with the Gospel of Christ.
The picture above was taken in 1920. It is thought to be in a church in Portland, Oregon. Six years before this picture was taken a White Methodist minister (William Joseph Simmons), resurrected the Ku Klux Klan that Ulysses S. Grant had earlier disbanded. On the top of Stone Mountain in Georgia, Minister Simmons declared himself the Imperial Wizard and proclaimed: “The angels that have anxiously watched the reformation from its beginnings must have hovered about Stone Mountain and shouted hosannas to the highest heavens.” Rev. Simmons selected white robes to signify the “purity of Christ,” used the burning of the cross to denote the “light of Christ,” and used selective Bible verses to underscore the White man’s superiority.
Cartoon used by permission: 250851_RGB_1290.jpg The Longest War by Bob Englehart PoliticalCartoons com
By the time the photo was taken of the local Klan in a church in Oregon, 5 million White men belonged to the KKK and had infiltrated churches all across America—some being so bold as to wear their “uniforms of terror” while they sang in church choirs or sat in church pews. Many Protestant ministers (strictly Protestant because the KKK hated Catholics and Jews as much as Black people) were either sympathetic toward the KKK or were members. If men running around in hooded sheets and burning crosses had been the extent of the Klan’s evil, we could have chalked it up to insanity and might have been able to racially heal in America. But their deeds, which were sanctioned and led by many White Christian church members, were demonic and murderous across the nation (there are two dozen recorded massacres of thousands of Black Americans since that “Jesus Saves” photo was taken)—the most notable one which happened in Tusla, Oklahoma.
In 1921 approximately 3,200 Klansmen lived in Oklahoma (2,000 of them in Tulsa) which became the backdrop of the worst massacre of African-Americans in our history. This brutal terrorist act happened in a city that boasted of copious White Christian churches as part of its reputation and stability.
Tulsa Race Massacre 1921 Wikipedia/Public Domain
On May 31, 1921, 35 blocks of an all-Black residential and business area, known as “the Negro Wall Street” because it was so prosperous, was burned to the ground by the jealous White citizens of Tulsa. Approximately 10,000 Blacks had settled in the area due to the land rush at the time and established very vibrant and strong middle and upper class existences on valuable oil-rich land. It was a model community. They had doctors, lawyers, teachers, and bankers. They owned fine jewels and fur coats, pianos, beautiful houses, and delicately carved furniture. Greenwood, as it was called, had everything a thriving town would want, including Dr. A.C. Jackson, “the most able Negro surgeon in America” as cited by the Mayo brothers.
In 1921, private planes bombed Greenwood from the air with turpentine balls while hundreds of White men gunned down anyone who tried to escape their homes and businesses, including Dr. A.C. Jackson as he ascended his office steps with his hands up in surrender. Although the exact number of deaths is not known, at least 300 people died, 1,200 homes were looted and subsequently burned to the ground while thousands of Greenwood’s citizens were imprisoned without recourse—while a number of the WWI vets were lynched. It was reported (although never proven) that witnesses saw hundreds of bodies thrown into the river and mass graves. For years afterwards, Black Greenwood citizens would see their jewelry around the necks of White residents in and about town (I wonder if any of that stolen jewelry was worn to church with their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes when they “worshipped Jesus”?) while the Klan distributed postcards across the country with pictures of the destruction as proof of their ability to maintain White rule and dominance. The loss was the equivalent of $30 million in damage in today’s currency according to Brandon Weber of The Progressive.
Greenwood Residents picking through burned homes/Photo: Public Domain
No White person was
ever charged or held responsible for the Tulsa massacre. Many of the bodies
were never found. Until recently,
Oklahoma buried the story and refused to acknowledge it.
The excuse for the terrorist attack: A shoe shine boy (Dick Rowland) who was stationed outside a Tulsa department store on the White side of town—well-known and liked by the White residents—needed to use the only restroom available for Blacks which was on the top floor of the store. He ran into the elevator which was operated by a White woman (Sara Page). For some reason Ms. Page screamed (Rowland stepped on her toe or he stumbled and grabbed her arm—some even say they might have been lovers, but no one ever knew the reason for the scream except that it wasn’t rape as was later accused). Page’s scream frightened Rowland and he fled. A White person heard the scream, saw Rowland running away, and assumed the worst. The shoeshine boy was later exonerated and Ms. Page maintained from the beginning that nothing untoward had happened, but the destruction and massacre perpetrated by the White citizens were blamed on the Black citizens of Greenwood and they were never compensated.
Of all my research of this horrific moment in Black history, which as I said is still considered the worst massacre of African-Americans, I have never, ever read that the White Evangelical churches in Oklahoma took responsibility for the bedfellows they made with the Ku Klux Klan which undergirded their participation in Greenwood’s demise. I have found no record of any White Tulsa citizens coming to the aid of their African-American neighbors when they and their livelihood were being destroyed. I would like to think that at least one White “Christian” citizen did what Jesus would have done.
Courtesy of HBCU.org
***
ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT)ON WHITE EVANGELICALISM AND RACISM
I am discovering of late that until we comprehend how much of America’s racism has been fostered and cloaked in the Gospel of Christ, it will be impossible to get to the root of our national sin and systemically kill this tree, because it is in the bloodstream of White Christian America. Racism is a spiritual entity in our midst which permeates everything in our country from the church pew to the college campus to Wall Street to Congress, and it was born out of the sin of slavery. Let’s not stop at patting ourselves on the back because we elected a Black president (twice)—let’s move on down the road and deeper into the forests of our Evangelical churches’ histories, and really rid ourselves of our national sin of racism.
On that note, we are not totally without hope. In April 2018, Pastor Jim Wallis (President of Sojourners) and the National Council of Churches led a rally marking the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Its major focus was to “Confess to Confront Racism: Confessing the Church’s Complicity in Practicing, Promoting, and Profiting from White Privilege and Racial Division.” As Pastor Wallis said in Sojourners blog commentary:
“Let me say this as clearly as I can: Our original sin of white racism and the way it not just lingers but continues to evolve is literally throwing away imago dei — the image of God — and it happens over and over again each and every day. Let me quote a colleague, Professor Fr. Bryan Massingale from Fordham University, who says, ‘When I ask my white students if they have ever heard racism named or preached as a sin from their pulpits growing up in their churches — their answer is almost always NO.’ That says it all and that’s what we have to change. If we do, the changes could be enormous, with the fruits of repentance literally undergirding the substance of social change.”
INSPIRATIONAL QUOTE
“Without confession to the sin of white racism, white supremacy, white privilege, people who call themselves white Christians will never be free.” — @jimwallis
Cartoon used by permission: 252082_RGB_1290 (1).jpg 2nd Tulsa Race Massacre 1921 by Bruce Plante PoliticalCartoons com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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Thanking you in advance for your respect and consideration.
~Eleanor Tomczyk
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How The Hell Did I End Up Here? is a non-commercial entertainment and social commentary blog about the author's life and a critique of public and political personalities, published news articles, and consumer venues. Any linked-to or reblogged images contained on this website remain the property of their respective copyright owner(s), have been used by contractual permission, are displayed under the fair use doctrine, or are part of public domain.
how the hell did i end up here? 