hello. i am writing to let you know you did good job on the stars, and also on cats.
yours respectfully, me
dear universe,
in the original post of this, it says “dogs” where it now says “cats”. i do not know when (or how) it got changed, but i am glad that someone loved cats enough to do that, because i love my dog and i also love my cats and i felt bad about not mentioning it that first time. i’m also glad for all the tags where people told me what i should have added (like libraries and waffles and maple syrup) and i am glad for all the comments about how much they love their pets (and some people have such cool pets!)
i kind of think, universe, if we are your children, this is our macaroni art. see, see, see, you gave us a little bit of the stars, and we’ve made our own constellations. we tried to give back to you by making art and music and books and bad poetry and our laughter and our love and our tv dramadies. we took pictures of the night sky and pictures of sunsets and pictures of dew, we fell in love with space and the rivers and the rain. i personally have my desktop background as a picture of one of your nebulas. your hair looked great that day.
i think…. you did a good job, universe, on the stars, and what the stars became, because you put us together and yes, yes, things might be terrible – but good gracious did we make so many things worth loving, worth writing to you about, worth telling you – thank you, i’m taking the spark you put in me and using it to be kind, to be alive, to be wildly fierce about our gardens and gentle about our pets.
so hello. i amend my previous memo. i am writing to let you know you did a good job on the stars, and on my dog and my cats and the lizard i kept illegally in my apartment. and universe, i hope you’re watching, because some of the people you made? they’re great, universe, and they’re full of love, just endlessly capable of loving. and they give me hope.
and through them, universe, that’s you. that’s how the stars sing.
he smiles and winks and cheerfully taunts as he impales a child and i know how tempting it is to portray this moment as badass but the two people he loved most in the world would be so disappointed in him
There’s a town of about 70 people in Michigan – an incorporated community – called Hell. For $100, you can temporarily become the mayor. So comedian Elijah Daniel did just that, and he used his powers to ban heterosexuality.
Daniel based his ban almost verbatim on Donald Trump’s “extreme vetting” policy outlawing Muslims. And he really thought through the details:
His mayoral proclamation explains that when he was growing up, he was often told that homosexuals would go to hell. But “now the heterosexuals are trying to take that from us too,” Daniel wrote.
So, as mayor of Hell, he would establish “new vetting measures to keep radical heterosexuals out of our town.”
To make sure his words reached as many people as possible, he posted the ban on Twitter.
Lest he seem bigoted, Daniel offered local heterosexuals a chance to stay in Hell for a price: Fork over $84,000, which they would get back after one year of abstinence from straight sex.
“Reparative therapy” to find one’s gay side was also to be strongly encouraged. The alternative: being forced to wear a scarlet H and cargo shorts in the town square every morning for some public straight-shaming.
He was impeached shortly after enacting the policy, because every mayor of Hell gets impeached, but also because that’s what should happen when you try to ban an entire group of people from your community. And yet.
There’s a town of about 70 people in Michigan – an incorporated community – called Hell. For $100, you can temporarily become the mayor. So comedian Elijah Daniel did just that, and he used his powers to ban heterosexuality.
Daniel based his ban almost verbatim on Donald Trump’s “extreme vetting” policy outlawing Muslims. And he really thought through the details:
His mayoral proclamation explains that when he was growing up, he was often told that homosexuals would go to hell. But “now the heterosexuals are trying to take that from us too,” Daniel wrote.
So, as mayor of Hell, he would establish “new vetting measures to keep radical heterosexuals out of our town.”
To make sure his words reached as many people as possible, he posted the ban on Twitter.
Lest he seem bigoted, Daniel offered local heterosexuals a chance to stay in Hell for a price: Fork over $84,000, which they would get back after one year of abstinence from straight sex.
“Reparative therapy” to find one’s gay side was also to be strongly encouraged. The alternative: being forced to wear a scarlet H and cargo shorts in the town square every morning for some public straight-shaming.
He was impeached shortly after enacting the policy, because every mayor of Hell gets impeached, but also because that’s what should happen when you try to ban an entire group of people from your community. And yet.
payeehay 