Remember to speak

This is primarily directed toward my conservative friends and family, but of course anyone is welcome to read it.

I don’t believe that voting Republican automatically makes you a racist. I do believe that you can be conservative and also be compassionate. I don’t believe that you can hate the sin and love the sinner, but I do believe that you believe it, and intent counts for a lot these days. And while I firmly don’t believe that person-hood begins at conception, I understand that if you do, then trying to ban abortion is not only morally appropriate, but morally imperative.

Further, I firmly believe that we need people on both sides of the aisle to actively engage in debate. Diversity of thought makes us stronger, not weaker, and though we may disagree on things, working together is what makes democracy work.

So, having said that, I don’t think that you can support Donald Trump and also support America. Last night, Donald Trump tried to kill democracy. That may sound hyperbolic, but he lied, over and over, from the briefing room at the White House, alleging election fraud where none exists in a blatant attack on our most fundamental of rights.

Donald Trump is a fascist. You may not be a fascist, but if you continue to support Trump, you are supporting a fascist. Now, you may be ok with that because you don’t currently feel threatened by him, because you’re white, or male, or socially conservative. You may even agree with his policies or his ideology, but here’s the thing: in a fascist regime, the only policy — the only ideology that matters — is power. Cultivating and maintaining power. And that means that no one is ever safe.

It won’t matter how many guns or MAGA hats or Tump flags you own; or who you voted for or how many rallies you went to or how much you donated to his campaign when you piss off the wrong bureaucrat and the secret police come and disappear you in the middle of the night. They’ll tarnish your name and manufacture evidence and that’s if your family is lucky.

And no, that’s not where we are now, but this is how it starts. This is always how it starts — by good men doing nothing. As Stephen Colbert said in his monologue last night, when faced with a choice between democracy and fascism, there are not very fine people on both sides. This is a choice between Trump and the citizens of America.

If you care about democracy, if you love our country like I love our country, if you love my family like I love you, then you must speak up. You must speak out. In America, the power sits with the people, and we must not let it slip away.

I Am Not Ok

This is not ok.

I am not ok.

I say this fully aware that as an able-bodied, neurotypical, cisgendered, heterosexual, gender-conforming, middle-class, middle-aged, white male who was lucky enough to be born into a strong, stable, supportive family, and who has an MBA from a prestigious school and an executive position in a field that has blissfully remained unaffected by the global pandemic, I am as privileged as it is possible to be without being a member of the 1%.

And I am not ok.

I can literally only imagine what everyone else must be feeling — people whose gender is more fluid than mine, whose sexuality has been repressed but yearns to be expressed, who have an X where I have a Y, who are Jewish or Muslim or Hindu, who speak a first language other than English. But today, especially, people whose skin is darker than mine.

A people who were subject to slavery, and Jim Crow, and segregation, and redlining, and an institutional racism that is still rotting away the very core of our society, and so, so, so, so, so very much more.

A people two of my children belong to.

I am very not ok.

While I can’t condone rioting and looting and vandalism, I can absolutely understand it. I can only imagine what I would be capable of if it were my son or my daughter whose life was taken. No, I can’t condone the violence, but if it were me, and that was my Baby Bear under the knee of that officer, I would hope others would understand when I burned the whole fucking city to the ground.

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It’s been a while since I’ve shared my creativity publicly, but this seems like the right time. It’s helping me process. Maybe it will help someone to understand. If we work on understanding, then we can work on fixing, and preventing, and elevating, and supporting.

Anyway, here’s a poem…

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Hear No Evil

You didn’t listen when they kneeled
You didn’t listen when they prayed
You didn’t listen when they marched
You didn’t listen when they swayed

You didn’t listen when they raised their hands
And said they couldn’t breathe
And when they had no place to go
You asked why they didn’t leave

Then when they tried to tell you
That their lives were important, too
You told them that they were selfish
You showed them it wasn’t true

So when the crimson flames of rage
Erupt and fill the sky
Fanned by the winds of sorrow
Don’t stop and ask them why

The embers have been neglected
Now the fire’s burning bright
The caged bird sings of freedom
On this dark and lonely night

World Building: Silver City Chronicles

Silver City Chronicles combines the feel of the wild-west with traditional fantasy elements, high-energy action, and a tinge of dark horror. It takes place in and around a fictional town known as Silver City, which can be easily placed in a historical west that never was, or in any fantasy world where gunpowder and steam power exist.

Players take on the roles of traditional western archetypes such as wranglers, gunslingers, priests, and gamblers. These Drifters roam the fantastic west looking for adventure and getting into trouble.

High Action

Everyone carries a sidearm of some sort in the fantastic west. Most people carry six-shooters, but some may carry shotguns, rifles, or even old flintlock pistols. Sabers, tomahawks, and flat bows are also common weapons, and many people are trained in unarmed combat – from brawling to kung-fu.

Regardless of the weapon being used, combat takes on a very acrobatic feel. A gunman won’t normally stand in place while unloading his weapon. He’ll jump on top of a poker table, sending a pile of chips flying, somersault over two drunken trolls in the middle of a fistfight, and then dive for cover behind the bar as he shoots the ten-gallon hat off of his opponent’s head.

Low Magic

While supernatural powers, known as Hokum in Silver City Chronicles, exist, they’re fairly uncommon. Few people know how to use them, and those that do are often viewed with suspicion, because they’re breaking the commonly agreed-upon laws of nature.

The effects of supernatural powers are generally subtle and not flashy. Setting the rail baron’s hat on fire is more appropriate than tossing around a fireball, for example. Animating a corpse is more easily accomplished than turning an entire town into zombies. In any case, the effects of Hokum generate a sense of awe in normal folk.

Fantastic Creatures

The areas surrounding Silver City are filled with fantastic creatures: dinosaurs, wyverns, griffins, saber-toothed coyotes, and iron scorpions. These legendary beasts provide formidable opponents for even the most skilled gunslinger, and fill the Badlands between towns with opportunities for both adventure and danger.

Dark Horror

When dwarven prospectors dig a little too deep, they sometimes awaken ancient horrors, and sometimes the dead just don’t stay dead. Touches of horror in Silver City Chronicles should be few and far between, but should be appropriately gruesome.