LETTER FORTY-TWO

Henry,

From where I stand, everything holding us together is bursting at the seams: our health, our homes, our jobs, and all the other threads that keep disorder and chaos at bay are fraying under the strain of constant crisis. We know this bursting-at-the-seams isn't a new, but now we can't ignore it.

North of the border, we're sheltered from the worst excess of the new regime. Not that the imaginary line separating Canada from the US––while instrumental in harassing travellers such as yourself––does much to halt the flow of ideas. But at least we can use it to barricade against the flow of paranoiac legislation from an infantile tyrant hated by the people (fine, I'll qualify: the majority of people). We better hold it back, but it won't be easy. As Robert Plant sez,

"If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break, / When the levee breaks, I'll have no place to stay."

Baby, stay firm. All of our homes are in jeopardy now. I'm not just talking about the places we sleep. I'm talking about our schools, and hospitals, places of worship and grocery stores: all of these spaces will be contested. The people we're up against––they want everything. There is no place too small and vulnerable for them to consider. And in the case of the online front, the smaller and more vulnerable the target, the better. In Toronto we've lost two DIY spaces in the last month due to a spontaneous 4chan campaign, which as far as I know is still ongoing.

And these are just the losses from deliberate attacks. Other places and people are simply being priced out of the market. Macro-level economics has been the most damaging weapon at the disposal of Western governments for decades, for one because it's so boring people can't be bothered to pay attention. Beltway paper pushers do not inspire strong emotional reactions.

And that might be the best thing the Left has going for it right now. Trump might be tasteless, but he's not boring. People can't help but pay attention. And they don't like what they see.

Yours always,

Sal