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The Entire Country Feels Like A Toxic Locker Room Where ‘Boys Will Be Boys’
By Jade Sanchez-Ventura
Fuck you, Donald Trump. And fuck you, Bill, and your pussy-scented cigar that I read about when I was 13 on a school bus on the way to DC. Fuck you lady on the radio this morning who said she heard worse at her last bachelorette party. Fuck your wall. Fuck the white museum guard who kicked my friend’s school trip — a bevy of young, shining brown faces — out of the Holocaust Museum. Yes, it’s fucking ironic. Also heartbreaking.
Fuck the police. Stop lying to us.
Fuck ALEC. Do you know what ALEC is? I didn’t. Look it up. Fuck the bullshit. Fuck the drone program. Fuck the bombs. When are you going to stop lying to us? Fuck you Cosmo and YM and Details and Playboy and Esquire. Fuck the news anchors. Fuck you NY Post. Fuck you New York Times. When are we going to stop letting you lie?
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Do you want to know when I was the most naïve?
I was 20 years old and the World Trade Center had just fallen and the bodies of thousands had been turned into dust and the dust gathered itself into one ribbon that was pulled across the flawless blue sky. All day we breathed the dust and we waited for news of loved ones, and the loved ones of loved ones, and the city was quieter than it…