“That’s fine dude, I’m not mad at you. Show your face. I’m not mad at you.” Those were Renee Good’s final words, to Trump’s hitman Jonathan Ross, seconds before he shot her three times point blank in the face, muttering “Fucking bitch.” Meanwhile Renee’s wife Becca, filming as well, tells Ross,

“That’s okay we don’t change our [license] plates every morning, just so you know, it’ll be the same plate when you come back to us later. That’s fine. US citizen, former fucking VETERAN, want to come at us? You should go get yourself some lunch, big boy.”

This video, taken by the ICE murderer with one hand while he killed with the other, is being shown around by the fascists because they think it shows what a “bitch” Renee was, how dangerous and how she deserved to die. To human beings it doesn’t show that at all, it shows her good-humored and unthreatening. The fascists even put out an edited version that doesn’t show Renee’s lovable dog in the back and leaves out Becca being a veteran, and still it doesn’t make human beings hate and fear Renee. But a third of Americans are no longer human beings nowadays, but killer sheep, drooling at the tyrant’s every command and whim.

Trump can’t kill us all though.

In Trump’s America, Trump doesn’t just kill you, he and his fascist functionaries rush to the microphones and social media afterwards to smear you and lie about you while your corpse is still warm. They kill the truth about you, they tell the world you were a “domestic terrorist” who NEEDED to be killed, they demand, as Orwell predicted, that we “reject the evidence of our eyes and ears” – and one-third of Americans are shamefully happy to do that.

One thing we patriotic Americans know we can count on and need to remember every day: When Trump’s lips are moving he is lying. When JD Vance’s douchebag jowls are wagging he is lying. When Kristi Noem’s grotesque puffed-up face-labia are queefing out words, they are LIES.

When they beat up Tustin gardener / father of three marines Narciso Barranco in Santa Ana and video went viral, Noem immediately declared him a “violent anti-ICE terrorist” attacking ICE with a weed-whacker – and local idiots like Orange Councilman Jon Dumitru took her word as gospel. (Narciso is now doing his best to help Lisa Ramirez take ICE-loving Young Kim’s seat.)

When they accidentally arrested Kilmar Abrego Garcia, the first thing they did (after firing the guy who admitted it was an accident) before making Kilmar’s next six months a Kafka-esque hell, was to search their anal cavities to fling all their usual lies at poor Kilmar with no proof at all – he was a child molester, a wife beater, a human trafficker, a violent gangster, a drug kingpin – all bullshit.

The day after Trump killed Good, he shot two folks in Portland Oregon. They’re telling us now that the folks they shot were “Tren de Aragua” members who tried to “weaponize their vehicle” to kill them. Do you believe a word of that? Remember – when Kristi Noem’s puffed-up face labia are queefing out words, those words are LIES.

In foreign policy too, remember how leading up to Trump’s illegal invasion of Venezuela, he killed over a hundred people – either fishermen or low-level coke-runners – by blowing up dozens of defenseless little boats from afar, and justified it with the lie that“Every boat we destroy saves 25,000 American lives.” But remember, whenever Hegseth‘s drunken lips or Rubio‘s thirsty lips are moving, they are LYING. Lying, conflating fentanyl with Europe-bound cocaine, and we only had these liars’ word that these were even drug boats. These “25,000 saved American lives” is just a story they tell while they circle-jerk to their maritime snuff-porn.

The point is, what Trump does is kill us and then lie about us. Like he killed and lied about Good. But you are Good. And I am Good. And we are Good. And Trump can’t kill us all.

Pushing Forward

It’s clearly going to get worse this year than it was last year, and you and I must meet the moment if we’re going to save this nation. Trump’s masked Gestapo has had its funding doubled by the murderous Trump Party, the standards have been lowered to where they’re hiring any lowlife thug who’ll take the job, and Vance is telling them now that they somehow have “absolute immunity®.”

Renee Good was a legal observer, so we’re down one in Minneapolis. In Chicago, Minneapolis, Philadelphia, New Orleans, New York, nearly every citizen is involved in defending their community from Trump. We need to do much better here in Orange County California – as kidnappings increase, we can’t just leave our defense up to OC Rapid Response and Lucha Anaheim. This is a job for EVERY patriotic Californian.

You are Good. I am Good. We are Good, and Trump can’t kill every one of us. And those of us who survive these next few years will live to see these fascist fucks on trial at the Hague, and live to see, and water, Trump’s grave. Didn’t President Thomas Jefferson write that the Tree of Liberty must be watered, regularly, with the blood of patriots? I am sure if he could see America today, he would agree that the Grave of Trump must be drenched forever with the most patriotic of piss.

But what does Renee Good say? In 2020, she wrote:

***************

“i want back my rocking chairs,
solipsist sunsets,
coastal jungle sounds that are tercets from cicadas and pentameter from the hairy legs of cockroaches.

i’ve donated bibles to thrift stores
(mashed them in plastic trash bags with an acidic himalayan salt lamp—
the post-baptism bibles, the ones plucked from street corners from the meaty hands of zealots, the dumbed-down, easy-to-read, parasitic kind):

remember more the slick rubber smell of high gloss biology textbook pictures; they burned the hairs inside my nostrils,
& salt & ink that rubbed off on my palms.
under clippings of the moon at two forty five AM I study&repeat

                  ribosome
               endoplasmic—
               lactic acid
               stamen

at the IHOP on the corner of powers and stetson hills—

i repeated & scribbled until it picked its way & stagnated somewhere i can’t point to anymore, maybe my gut—

maybe there in-between my pancreas & large intestine is the piddly brook of my soul.

it’s the ruler by which i reduce all things now; hard-edged & splintering from knowledge that used to sit, a cloth against fevered forehead.

can i let them both be? this fickle faith and this college science that heckles from the back of the classroom

               now i can’t believe—

that the bible and qur’an and bhagavad gita are sliding long hairs behind my ear like mom used to &—

               exhaling from their mouths “make room for wonder”—

               all my understanding dribbles down the chin onto the chest & is summarized as:

life is merely
to ovum and sperm
and where those two meet
and how often and how well
and what dies there.

– Renee Good 2020.

Open Thread Now.