• aftermath

    by  • September 27, 2016 • america, fear, hope, justice • 13 Comments



    I didn’t watch the debate last night

    on purpose. I went to bed and woke

    this morning to screens strewn with

    the debris of comments and video

    clips like empty beer cups and hot dog

    wrappers left after a WWF cage match.


    Orange is the new angry. No. It’s the

    same old angry, the puke of privilege,

    intending to set a tone that shouts down

    anyone who dares to disagree, or even

    suggest that his is not the only voice.


    But there are other voices. Charlotte.

    Tulsa. Aleppo. Dallas. (Insert city here.)

    Your city. My city. Our country. Take

    to the streets, my friends. Hold up

    signs. Hold out your hands. Knock

    on doors. Let’s turn to one another

    on street corners and tell the truth

    with our smiles, our words, our

    willingness to not be defined by

    our differences, to not be fueled

    by our fears. Live beyond the lie

    that there is not enough for

    everyone. Trust that it takes all

    of us to tell the whole story of

    what it means to be an American.


    Loud and powerful are not the same

    thing; rich and right are not synonymns.

    Human and hopeful; neighbor; friend;

    just, kind, deferential, determined;

    loving; engaging; tenacious; together:

    a short list from the vocabulary of

    freedom. Speak your words and add

    them to the lexicon of lament and

    promise. Write them on the walls of

    our prisons, our police stations, our

    capitols and our churches, our schools

    and our state houses. Let the graffiti

    of grace speak louder than the garbage

    talk of a failed game show host.




    Blogging since December 2005


    13 Responses to aftermath

    1. Wynne Cook
      September 27, 2016 at 11:27 am

      You captured my thoughts so eloquently Milton. Thank you.

      • September 27, 2016 at 11:29 am

        Thanks, Wynne.

    2. September 27, 2016 at 11:39 am

      See, we need you to do a video version of this, sort of combining Tom Waits’ Step Right Up with Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues with the flip cards: “don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows…!”

    3. September 27, 2016 at 11:42 am


    4. Suzanne Cate
      September 27, 2016 at 12:04 pm

      Boom!!!!!! Excellent!!!

    5. September 27, 2016 at 12:21 pm

      Wow, very powerful!! I forwarded your column to my nephew in San Francisco, he will enjoy your words of wisdom. Thank you.

    6. September 27, 2016 at 12:55 pm

      Your comments gave me chills and hope! Thanks!

    7. Julie Hughens
      September 27, 2016 at 1:02 pm

      The graffiti of grace – love it!

    8. Leah King
      September 27, 2016 at 2:56 pm

      Milton, how about the graffiti of grace on railroad cars? We see trains traveling through the river bottom here in Colorado Co., Texas, with the most amazing art on them. I’m headed out with my paint to find a boxcar. Thank you for this word of hope.

    9. Wynegood G. Malunga
      September 27, 2016 at 4:30 pm

      This is deep. Whenever Milty writes something, i feel so proud that he’s not only my friend but my brother.

    10. September 27, 2016 at 4:52 pm

      I like this. Reminds me of a Timbuk 3 song about presidential elections being distractions to take our minds off the problems we face. Nicely done.

    11. cynthia3403
      September 27, 2016 at 11:49 pm

      AFtermath is the perfect word choice. I did watch over here in Singapore and it was exhausting, then disappointing to see that it doesn’t matter what this man does or how he fails, his supporters will still support. It’s all turning me into a cynic mixed with a little despair, these days.

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