An Anniversary of Madness
These are dark, twisted, and very strange times that are upon us. A miasma of madness and fear permeates every aspect of our daily lives.
Pedophiles and corporate Interests control our nation, we linger in forever wars, and the average person can no longer afford to live.
What are the hungry freaks to do? I guess we could strip down, run through the streets, and start smashing things but that sounds more like the average Friday in Tower than a lasting cultural revolution.
The goldfish in charge have been arguing the same points about abortion, drug legalization and immigration for the last 50 years and what have we got to show for it? More empty promises and emptier coffers!
“Round and round we go, where we stop—who knows?!”
The epitome of the dead American dream. Maybe this will be the year that the people that are affected by political decisions will get to be the ones that make them.
The classic American values of peace, justice, and liberty have been sold for what is quick, cheap and easy. Comfort has taken the place of freedom and not a soul seems to care.
The Ambrosios of the previous generations have made their pacts with Satan and had no concern for the outcome of their shortsighted decisions. Now like Matilda they slink away into the darkness, never having to face what they have done.
We have been left with their desperate and tangled mess, sailors on the precipice of a vast and unknown ocean. Uncertain of what lies ahead, almost certainly our doom and destruction, but also the possibility for something new and life changing.
The future is inevitable so we may as well take the plunge, we don’t have much to lose at this point anyway.
It is not too late for the hungry freaks of America—we could all take a stand tomorrow and defecate on those that get in our way.
We don’t have to let this year, the 250th anniversary of this insane nation, be the last we can make our voices heard. Go out, take a bite out of some political windbag, and live your life.
Just because the American Dream is dead doesn’t mean we can’t make a new one in our own image.
V. Aspen
Where is the Love?
I am disappointed, though not surprised, by Fresno County Supervisor Garry Bredefeld’s characterization of Pride and LGBTQ+ representation as “indoctrination.”
A library display is not indoctrination. A Pride endcap is not recruitment. A book does not make someone queer any more than a cookbook makes someone a chef.
What libraries do is educate, represent, and illuminate. They provide windows into lives, experiences and communities that exist whether some people approve of them or not. For LGBTQ+ youth, and for families trying to understand or support them, representation is not politics.
Sometimes it is safe visibility. Sometimes it is reassurance. Sometimes it is a lifeline.
The Fresno County Library has long recognized many communities and awareness months, from disability and cultural heritage to faith traditions and health education.
Pride was never some radical exception. It was simply one more acknowledgment that Fresno is made up of many kinds of people who are all part of Fresno’s wonderful diversity, all deserving of access to information and visibility.
And for those who claim to be protecting children, I ask: what about the children who are questioning, frightened, isolated or unsupported? What about the teenager quietly wondering if they are broken or alone or somehow unworthy of love?
Libraries have long been one of the few places where young people can safely seek knowledge without shame or fear. If support, education and representation disappear, what happens to those children? Shouldn’t ALL children be given dignity and support?
Parents absolutely have the right to guide their own children’s reading and values. But removing visibility or branding representation as “indoctrination” sends a different message entirely: that some lives and identities are acceptable to acknowledge publicly while others should remain hidden.
Over twenty years ago, in their popular song “Where is the Love,” the band Black Eyed Peas asked “what happened to the love and the fairness and equality?” They said that “instead of spreading love we’re spreading animosity.”
These words speak to something deeper than politics—if we leave space for discrimination we should not be surprised when anger, hatred and division take root and spread in its place.
If we never speak truth and equality, perhaps we never learn what love actually sounds like. And if we never truly know love, then do we ever truly know God?
Libraries do not indoctrinate, they illuminate. They provide a safe space.
Every child, every family and every member of our community deserves to know they belong in the story FresYes tells about itself.
Jennifer Blackman
