State Terror is Here; Carry On.

In the wake of another Minnesotan murdered by ICE, I’ve thought a lot about how to justify reading and writing poetry and essays during what feels like the end of the American Experiment.

How futile and pointless is it to cull through the annals of American Poetry as countrymen bear witness and lay down their bodies to stanch the ever-growing presence of paramilitary violence?

But I’m reminded of a Churchill anecdote: During WWII, when asked to cut funding for England’s theatre program, Churchill vehemently refused asking, roughly, “If we don’t have the arts, what are we fighting for?”

No, this is not a normal time—and yes, it’s important to take stock of our surroundings and ask what is essential to maintain in the face of political and state violence. But to me, nothing is more essential than the works of novelists and poets, the play-writes and filmmakers who emphasize capital T truths for the betterment of our world.

Six months ago I moved to Colombia and have spent the majority of that time learning the intricacies of a foreign culture. None of my life has been normal since my move—but then again what was “normal” in my past home?—a place plagued by school shootings and “swatting” episodes.

In a world that’s given us both Caligula and AI, what does “normal” even mean?

Perhaps to see the present regime’s dystopian undertakings as “abnormal” is to miss the point altogether—learning how to defy, rather, is the important part.

Man’s history is nothing but a succession of abnormalities, and our present chaos is no different—we too, must learn to maintain our sanity amidst the fray, to better the present—that is all one can ever do.

So yes, stand up to tyranny—and don’t feel bad about reading that novel as you do it. Uphold the teachings of your ancestors and morality writ-large—and seek refuge in the poetry of the ancients. Like all generations before us, today we’re asked to do both.

Of course this isn’t normal—but is anything?