Simply and Satirically Me

It needs to be explained clearly, because no one is doing it. Conservatives, right-wingers, Christians, or any other advocate of traditional notions of morality seen as out of date or “on the wrong side of history” are becoming apologetics. And the irony is that it’s because they are actually much more tolerant, open-minded, and even scared than their political and social opponents. Instead, they are fighting in an arena regulated by a liberal agenda that couldn’t be called progressive any more than those of us still holding out for Social Security. The way it works is simple. If you don’t play by their rules, you’re a bigot. So of course you play by their rules—one of which requires that everyone who disagrees loses. Heads you lose, tails I win. That’s politics and there is no God, so why are you complaining, bigot? Well, that’s simple. Because any policy of government that mandates the universality of thought is already growing into a repressive arm of tyranny th...

It began with children. 15 children. They painted anti-government graffiti on the school walls. Then, they were arrested. Some said they were tortured. Riots began. After parents tried to secure their release, CNN reported this response from a local official "Forget your children. If you really want your children, you should make more children. If you don't  know  how to make more children, we'll show you how to do it." That was in 2011. And most people don’t remember it. Or don’t know about it. I only know because I was working on a case study of Syria at the time. I told my brother I was trying to figure out why Syria was lagging behind in the Arab Spring. I told him I suspected it had to do with a lack of international intervention. I found that conversation in an old google chat from March 2012. Not much has changed.  That is, on the international stage.  But in Syria, over 4 years of conflict has brought reports of 7.6 million displaced refugees...

The rickety old bus bumped and tumbled its way down the winding roads, drifting between pavement and dirt roads alike. The sun beat down brutally through the dusty windows, making the often crowded environment even less appealing. The hot, uncomfortable blue seats were scarce. The majority of us stood holding onto various, oddly intertwining metals bars that somehow kept everything together. This was travel in Brazil. It was one of those hard weeks. When you find yourself questioning once again what you are doing, why you decided to come, and why you haven’t gone home yet. Sometimes, life just doesn’t seem worth the effort we put into it. It was that kind of day. The sort where you feel a little like you are banging your head against a brick wall in a maze without an exit. But I was saved by a distraction. The bus had been rolling on, passing by what looked more like a makeshift bus stop, when suddenly the motorista (bus driver) slammed on the breaks. I looked out the window t...