Trudging the Trenches for the Resistance

World War I, French soldiers in a trench. (Photo by Neurdein/Roger Viollet/Getty Images)

Days of infamy are remembered, but they’re not celebrated.

November 8th, 2016 was one of those days. For the second time in less than twenty years, the popular vote winner lost the Electoral College selection process. Trepidation and fear metastasized and manifested into a grim reality: A pseudo-populist/reactionary administration-elect was on the verge of assuming power.

That day was a personal day of infamy, which set about a series of events that ultimately defined what role I would play in this looming, political anti-passion play.  The first act was over, but I was still dazed after the results trickled in.  The Electoral College defeat was a crushing blow to my hopes and expectations for the future.  For the first time in my life, I lost faith in the system and I started to question whether, or not, the Republic would survive the nightmarish results.

Things got worse as the reactive Liberal folly went into high gear during the final weeks of the Obama Administration. The news was dominated by bizarre notions and concocted fantasies —driven mostly by fear and desperation.  Pipe dreaming Liberals who ran around in circles fecklessly calling for recounts, while others called for contrived, as well as, absurd demands for the (Electoral College) Electors to shun their mandate and vote for the popular winner.  Adding insult to stupidity, my feeds were bombarded with a plethora of pointless straw grasps that wasted political capital and nearly squandered what little energy remained. It didn’t take long for the handwriting on the wall to come clearly into focus:  The left was in deep kimchi.

By mid-January, my feeds were quiet, but the overall tone was grim. Then, out of nowhere, a story burst through the political miasma and dominated every media outlet.  On January 10th, 2017, Buzzfeed News posted a leaked dossier purported to be a part of some opposition research project of Donald Trump’s Presidential campaign.  Nested within the dossier, was this rather sordid account during one of Trump’s previous business visits to Moscow.  This account had three tantalizing ingredients (prostitutes, silk sheets and urine), which were all to play a pivotal role in snapping the left out of its post-election funk.

Release the hounds!

The subsequent ridicule-fest was glorious! Memes, snarky posts and twit-chatter exploded across the internetwebz —producing a metaphorical feeling of “relief,” which was both soothing and wonderfully hilarious. This one bizarre event ended the left’s cycle of doom and despair. All it took was a Presidential suite in Moscow, some local Muscovite professionals and a particular body fluid to send the nets into a frenzy. Did I mention silk sheets? The left finally reconciled itself with the election results and found a new cause: Resistance.


Saturday, January 21st: a protest march, pussy hats and a lot of womenfolk…

Meanwhile, several women’s groups joined forces and organized a protest march in Washington, D.C. —the day after the inauguration.  Joined by other groups around the country, a day of protest was called to protest human rights abuses, send a message to the newly selected President and proclaim: “We The People” will be counted and heard.

Locally, the march was not planned, but a few dedicated organizers managed to get things going. With nothing but determination, the organizers scheduled a march through the streets of San Antonio in solidarity with the march in DC.  With the tacit approval of city hall and the SAPD, people gathered, chanted slogans, wore pussy hats, put on costumes and some local politicians were out humping legs for votes. As a bonus, the day was picture perfect.

The route was about three miles long and terminated at a Mexican restaurant across the tracks from city hall. At my journey’s end, the organizers provided “transportation” to ferry people from the restaurant back to city hall. The “transportation” was actually a throwback hippy school bus that valiantly attempted to ferry people back to ground zero.  I opted to walk due to simple mathematics: one hippy bus plus two thousand humans didn’t add up. On my way back, I chatted with a couple around my age.  Mixed into the chit-chat was a lot of concern and anger, but there was also, hope. I joked with friends and acquaintances how this was the day I became a, “filthy protestor!”

Two distinct anecdotes stick out from my experience:

The people who lived along the route thanking the marchers as they passed by and… 

The women who went out their way to thank me for joining their march.

Personally, it was the event horizon between a nightmarish past and a future with purpose.


Indivisible and the local coven(s)

Indivisible Banner

After several fruitless attempts to join a group of like-minded people, I stumbled across something called the Indivisible Guide.  Their website was well organized and by doing a simple search, I found a local group that was organized by Congressional district, Texas 20th — Joaquin Castro.  There were four other groups organized by Congressional district in Bexar County:

21st, Lamar Smith (R)
23rd, Will Hurd (R)
28th, Henry Cuellar (D)
35th, Lloyd Doggett (D)

There were meetings, schmoozers and field trips to annoy the local Republican incumbents. Once a week, the leaders of the five groups would gather to share ideas and events. I pitched in by offering a free meeting space donated by my local not-for-profit client; who was sympathetic to the cause. I also met a shitload of politicians.

There is an ignorant notion, held by many, that politics is trivial and anybody could do a better job than these political types.


Any would-be office holder better come to the realization that elected public service is a nightmare for the office holders, especially on the state and local level. Shitty pay, few perks and many still end up balancing their regular jobs with the joys of being a public servant. I found my representatives to be professional and well informed regarding the issues.

Fucking old white guys

Full disclosure, I’m a verified member of the Ancient Flatulence Society and as such, it’s my duty to showcase the way these fucking relics induce industrial strength agita when participating in local politics.  The first kind of dotard uses a logical fallacy known as, “no true Scotsman” as a primary tactic.  This illogical argument espouses a concocted paradigm of self-concluded purity.  In reality, it’s nothing more than a lame way to dodge honest debate and to dominate a discussion, that can lead to overt hostility.

Next are the “legends in their own mind” types of decomposing biomatter.  Decaying carcasses of arrogance and know-it-all-ism whose fiendish plan was to impose their will by using a bait and switch routine to shoehorn people into the cadaver’s dependency; thereby cementing the fossil into perpetual power.

Needless to say, both of these boofs were just arrogant fucks who lacked basic leadership skills.  Furthermore, the first asshole became a liability and due to his belligerence, I ended my direct participation with the covens. Sad!

Epilogue: A gloomy day, a full circle and new mission

January 20th, 2018 was a far cry from the previous year.  It was cold, wet and gloomy. The second Women’s March in San Antonio was, really, more of a rally.  The permit process in Bexar County is a bit cumbersome and recent agreed upon changes did not take effect in time for the march, so everybody showed up downtown and rallied.  The Police did allow the crowd of 500 to march around the block!  So, I shall forever call this: The mini-march.  A year later I wasn’t going to let the issues of 2017 prevent me from doing my part in some new way.

The 2018 primaries in Texas start early and there’s not a lot of time to prepare for March 6th.  Rafael “Teddeh” Cruz is running scared as he slithers into the election season. Lamar Smith decided to punt and TX21 is in play this year. Will Hurd is the incumbent in one of the most competitive districts in Texas: TX23. This makes this district a top priority.  Castro’s district is safe, so for the primaries, I’ve become a grassroots political mercenary.

My new task is to reach out to other Indivisible groups across the country.  The goal is to create an organic network of organized groups who can share ideas, phone bank, get local events/candidates noticed and extract Republicans via the ballot box. One of the first targets is the NRA’s 501c(4) status.  To my delight, there are many who share this goal and a complaint process has been found to stick it to the NRA using official means.  With some luck, maybe we can send Wayne and Dana a clear message:  The salad days are over and accountability is going to be a mother fucker!

Finally, organizing the grassroots is like herding cats chasing cockroaches.  Even with this new purpose, this damn cat has his work cut out for him! I’ll share updates as events warrant.

To the sea!

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