Part I: I Don’t Want to Talk About This Sham Administration Anymore

I don’t want to talk about this sham administration anymore. Not because it doesn’t matter, but because everything we were screaming from the rafters about is already underway. The warnings, the predictions, the historical parallels—we laid them out plain as day. And still, one year in feels like twenty in this crazy a$$ universe.

The truth is, I’m tired of debating people who refuse to feel what’s happening. I’m tired of explaining fascism to people who think it arrives wearing jackboots and armbands instead of suits and staged press conferences. I’m tired of people pretending this is normal, pretending this is fine, pretending this isn’t a deliberate dismantling of humanity itself.

Because that’s what this is: an assault on humanity.

We’ve been screaming about the rights of Black people—here and across the diaspora. We’ve been screaming about Palestinians living under siege, about women losing bodily autonomy, about the LGBTQIA+ community being legislated out of public life. And what were we told?

That we were hysterical.

That we were exaggerating.

That we were fear-mongering.

No.

We were speaking to reality—a reality many didn’t want to face. Or better yet, didn’t feel was in their imperialist interests to acknowledge. There is no polite way to put it: for many, the racism, the supremacy, the intoxicating feeling of being “above” someone else overwhelms any remaining sense of humanity.

The care for the next person fell off a cliff in exchange for the comfort of hierarchy. People cling to the feeling of being superior to someone—anyone—before they cling to truth.

That’s how you get people cheering for cruelty at the border.

That’s how you get people calling human beings “illegals” instead of mothers, children, families fleeing violence—violence the U.S. and its “friends” helped engineer.

And while we’re here: let’s talk about what’s going on in Venezuela. Or better yet, what’s going on throughout the Caribbean. They are blowing up Black and brown people under the guise of a “war on drugs.” As if we haven’t seen this playbook a thousand times. As if they didn’t already run this experiment on us, on our communities, and across the Global South.

This isn’t about safety.

It’s not about law and order.

It is about money and power, full stop.

Imperialism has never cared about human life. It cares about access, control, influence, and resource extraction. And what we’re witnessing right now—across continents—is the same violent script, updated for the modern era.

This is what empire does:

It feeds on people.

It feeds on suffering.

It feeds on silence.

And none of this is random. None of it is disconnected. It is the same machinery running in different places, different decades, with different excuses. The blueprint is centuries old:

A Brief Historical Timeline of U.S.-Backed Proxy Wars and Interventions

Vietnam War (1955–1975)

Sold as a fight against communism, it became a testing ground for mass bombings and chemical warfare. Millions of Vietnamese civilians were killed. Agent Orange still poisons families generations later.

Operation Condor (1975–1983)

Across Latin America, the U.S. backed dictatorships that tortured, disappeared, and murdered tens of thousands—all to crush leftist movements and maintain Western control.

Invasion of Grenada (1983)

The U.S. invaded Grenada under the pretext of “protecting American medical students” and “restoring democracy.”

But the truth is simpler: a small Black island dared to assert political independence under Maurice Bishop. They aligned with socialist principles, invested in education and healthcare, and forged alliances that didn’t serve U.S. interests.

The empire responded with overwhelming force.

This was a geopolitical message to the entire Caribbean and Latin America: any Black or brown nation that chooses self-determination outside the American sphere will be punished.

The invasion destabilized the region for decades and reinforced U.S. dominance in the Caribbean.

Desert Storm (1990–1991)

Marketed as “liberation,” but deeply rooted in oil politics. Air strikes destroyed Iraq’s infrastructure. Post-war sanctions killed hundreds of thousands—mostly children.

Afghanistan (2001–2021)

A 20-year occupation dressed up as nation-building. Billions went to defense contractors while Afghan civilians endured death, displacement, and chaos.

Iraq War (2003–2011)

Launched on fabricated intelligence about WMDs. Destroyed an entire nation, fueled sectarian violence, and opened the door to extremist groups. Corporations profited; Iraqis died.

Israel and Palestine (1948–Present)

A decades-long occupation supported through U.S. weapons, military aid, and diplomatic cover. Palestinians live under siege, apartheid, displacement, and genocide. The world calls it ethnic cleansing; the U.S. calls it “defense.”

Haiti & the Caribbean (2004–Present)

Western interventions continue to destabilize Haiti and the region. Aid is militarized. Governments are manipulated. Now entire communities are being bombed under the banner of a war on drugs. Black and brown bodies are still treated as expendable.

Venezuela (2000s–Present)

Sanctions, economic intervention, and failed coup attempts collapsed the economy. Millions fled humanitarian conditions created in large part by U.S. policy. Then those same migrants are criminalized at the U.S. border.

Call to Action: What Do We Do With This Truth?

We name these connections not for despair—but for clarity.

Clarity is the starting point of power.

1. Refuse the Gaslighting

You were not hysterical. You were not exaggerating. You were telling the truth. Stand firm.

2. Support the Vulnerable Directly

Mutual aid matters. Protect asylum seekers. Donate. Volunteer. Show up. Solidarity is a verb.

3. Fight Propaganda in Real Time

Correct misinformation. Challenge racism and anti-immigrant narratives. Attend local meetings where oppressive policies are born.

4. Protect Your Community

Authoritarianism thrives on isolation. Build networks of care, especially across Black, brown, immigrant, queer, disabled, and working-class communities.

5. Vote With Humanity, Not Comfort

Voting won’t save us alone, but it is one tool. Use it intentionally. Back people and policies that prioritize human rights.

6. Follow the Money

Imperialism is economic. Track contractors, police budgets, war profiteers, local investments in violence. Demand divestment.

7. Refuse to Normalize Violence

Do not let genocide or border militarization become background noise. Outrage is a compass.

8. Tell the Truth Publicly

Write. Speak. Post. Teach. Your truth disrupts propaganda. Your voice is a weapon.

9. Stay Globally Connected

What happens in Gaza is connected to Haiti. What happens in Venezuela is tied to Worcester. Liberation is global. So is oppression. So must our solidarity be.

10. Remember: Empires Fall. People Survive Because They Resist.

We are not powerless. We are not imagining the danger. We are living through the storm—but we are not alone, and we are not without tools.

The truth is this:

Empires collapse loudly.

But people survive—because they choose each other.

And choosing each other is exactly what we must keep doing.