David H. Reinarz – Writers Resist

Dave

By David H. Reinarz

Dave stepped out of his air-conditioned house and sat down on the front porch. Not on a chair. On the concrete step.

The concrete step on the porch of Dave’s house was very hot. Dave could feel the heat through the seat of his stone-washed denim blue jeans and Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs.

The concrete step of Dave’s house was very hot, because it was 97 friggin’ degrees. Dave’s forehead instantly bloomed with perspiration, followed closely by his armpits. The humidity was probably about 97, too. He took off the turquoise and orange plaid cotton button down shirt. He didn’t want sweat stains on it. He had bought it on an impulse in the fashionable menswear store in Regency.

Dave’s shoulders and arms and back and chest now glistened. The soft soles of his feet were uncomfortable.

This must be what it’s like for those poor devils crossing the Mexican desert, trying to get to the Rio Grande, he thought. Or those poor bastards trying to escape North Africa across the Mediterranean to Europe. Or those poor kids working all day in that factory in Asia who made my plaid shirt. Bloody shame, that is. The world is not an easy place!

Dave took a sip of iced mocha cappuccino. He could go back inside. Inside Dave’s house, the computer-controlled environmental enhancement system kept everything at exactly 72 degrees Fahrenheit and 45 percent humidity.

But, no, he would sit outside on the concrete step of the porch of his house in the heat for a bit longer. You know, in solidarity with all those poor souls trying to claw their way across the face of the planet in search of … what?

Well, he raised his glass in symbolic salute, thoughts and prayers. Thoughts and prayers.

David H. Reinarz was born in Minneapolis and now lives in Omaha, Nebraska, and he has a BA in Philosophy and Religious Studies from the University of Nebraska, Omaha. Retired from a career as manager of retail professional bicycle shops, he is an alumnus of the 7 Doctors Writers Workshop (2015) and has been writing short stories and poetry since 2015. Dave is the author of two collections: Story City: Ten Short Stories and One Long Story in the Middle (2016) and The Sweet Jesus Trilogy and Other Stories (2017). His books are available in paperback and Kindle on Amazon.com.

Photo credit: Mr. TinDC via a Creative Commons license.

A Dystopian Declaration

By David H. Reinarz

Following close on the heels of a surprisingly resurgent 45th President and the disappointing turnout by the Resistance in the 2018 mid-term elections, due to chaos fatigue and disorganization, the extremist wing of the Republican Party swept into even greater power in Washington, D.C. This document was issued by the Congress in joint session.

In Congress, July 4, 2019

The unanimous Declaration of the united States of America, and when we say America, we don’t mean Canada or Mexico, because those places are full of the wrong kind of people and they are not really America because America is us. And we don’t mean Hawaii and Puerto Rico and Guam because those are islands surrounded by water and not really very American anyway, but Alaska is definitely in. And when we say States we have to exclude California and Western Oregon and Western Washington because they are too liberal and left Congress in a self-righteous huff last week, and New York and Massachusetts and Connecticut are arguing against this Declaration and might refuse to sign it, so we might have to do something unpleasant with them. And then there are all those big cities in otherwise really fine States that are filled with rabble who threaten the upstanding citizenry, so we will have to figure out what is going on there and deal with it. So this is the unanimous Declaration of the really Good People in the really Good States of America who are United in defense of their rights.

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with others, and by others we mean Indians and Negroes and Arabs and Mexicans or other Hispanics and anybody who doesn’t look White enough, unless maybe they want to be submissive and deferential and not be all scary and threatening and will act like they are White as much as they can, and by others we also mean Muslims and atheists and anybody with a weird non-Christian religion and we are on the fence about Catholics and we are still discussing whether Jews are OK, and then there are all kinds of liberals and tree-hugging environmentalists we don’t think belong in our country, and really chronically poor and sick and homeless people who are just a burden and generally useless, but women are mostly OK as long as they know their place and respect the primacy of men and we especially like Asian women and Eastern European mail order brides but those crazy feminist bitches have to go, and the gays, so we are reasserting our assumption of all the powers of the earth to secure our separate and superior station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s entitle us, The God Fearing Christian White Men of America.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are not really created equal, there are differences between men, and our Creator made these differences intentionally, and only the Best Men, meaning The God Fearing Christian White Men of America, are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

To secure these rights and to control the behavior of women, children, and men of lesser status in our eyes, Governments are instituted among men, deriving their powers from God as he invests them in the Best Men and therefore the Best Men are worthy of the loyalty and submission of the governed.

The previous Form of Government in the United States of America established in the 18th Century, became destructive of these ends. It is therefore the right of the Best Men to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes. When a long train of abuses and usurpations and attacks on the White Christian Culture, which is the bedrock of America, by the rabble who undermine our economy, limit our ability to acquire and retain wealth, commit acts of carnage against us, spread immorality, disrespect our flag and anthem, teach ideas contrary to The Bible, and redistribute the hard-won assets of our society to the unworthy, we declare that these evils are not sufferable, and we will abolish the Forms to which these purveyors of cultural treason have become accustomed.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the Best Men of these States, solemnly publish and declare a New Order and a New Form of Government. With a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

Photo credit: Image of John Trumbull’s Declaration of Independence by Purple Communications via a Creative Commons license.

An Open Letter to the People Beyond the Fence

From David H. Reinarz,

I am writing to you from the Political Re-Education Farm, which I believe is somewhere in Southern Idaho. They won’t tell us exactly where we are. It’s part of the New Regime’s disorientation/reorientation technique. They’re trying to change our minds. There is a big fence around the farm—President 45 likes walls and fences. The Internal Border Patrol is on guard.

I don’t have a lot of time to write. It’s after bedtime, but it’s midsummer, so there’s still enough light to get this done before the guards do head count. One of them gives us scraps of paper and stubs of pencils he cadges from the supply room. He says his wife is Muslim and is in a camp in Alabama. We write down our resistance words. He says he will get them to the outside. I don’t know if he does. If you see this, know that we have not given up. We are not dead, yet.

We are poets, writers, playwrights, musicians, artists, dancers, actors, some college professors, a few politicians. America’s dangerous intelligentsia!

I was part of a group rounded up in Omaha, a blue spot in a red state. What we’d been writing and publishing was not only making the president crazy, his clones in the governor’s mansion and mayor’s office were angry and embarrassed that we wouldn’t be controlled. Even in the Midwest, there were voices of resistance.

We were held in the public baseball stadium, named after the governor’s family business. We were interrogated. We were given a chance to recant our views and sign a loyalty oath to President 45. It was the same loyalty oath you have to pledge to get a voting card or receive any government benefits since the New Regime initiated Level 2 of Making America Great Again.

Bowing down and giving in wasn’t going to happen. That night, we were handcuffed and hooded and put on a train headed out of town, destination unrevealed.

We do potatoes here. They have de-mechanized the agricultural practices, so there’s more work for more intellectuals to struggle with. Our struggle! On top of that, we are force-marched and receive regular beatings. Not so much that we are injured and can’t work. No, just enough to make us hurt a little more, make our farm work a little harder, know that our thoughts and words have brought us here and are the source of our suffering.

How is your health? How is your physical strength? How is your endurance? Did you ride a bike today? Did you do your yoga? Did you run up the stairs to your office?

You will need this, my friends. You will need this.

After we are done working in the hot summer sun and are physically weak and exhausted, there is interrogation. “What is your name? Where are you from? Who are your friends? Who did the publishing and distribution of your pamphlets? What books and newspapers did you read? What social media did you use? Give us your logins and passwords!”

Then dinner. Potatoes. Always potatoes. Potatoes and road kill.

After dinner there are three hours of re-education. “Who won the election? Who were the losers? How do you demonstrate loyalty to President 45?”

It’s brutal, listening to this guy from the Propaganda Ministry drill us on White Supremacy theory and Creationism and the need for a strong leader in a dangerous world. I think I would prefer another beating. Every day I make the point that whites are not supreme. I remember the Supremes. They were not white, but they were supreme. I also make the point that the only thing created here is a stronger Resistance. And I make the point that the world is only dangerous for those who support the leader, because the people will rise up and take back our country.

I get another beating.

I know you don’t want to hear, “I told you so,” but I don’t mind saying it. “I told you so.” Many people who’ve studied the history of the world and the history of America told you so. It doesn’t take long to take apart a government when you have a self-obsessed president surrounded by a few hard core ideologues, a few bad hombres working for them, a complacent Congress, and a de-fanged judicial system. You can’t just hope that everything is going to be OK. I am telling you this from a political prison farm in Idaho. They should have been stopped early on, before they got rolling.

If this gets to anyone on the outside, all of us here tell you: “Now is the time to resist!”

If this gets as far as the UN Headquarters in Berlin or The World Bank Headquarters in Tokyo, don’t be afraid to help us. We need the whole world to work for justice and to affirm the human rights of our wonderfully diverse population.

Time for dinner. Tonight’s menu: potatoes.

After lights out: Dig the tunnel. Dig, dig the tunnel. Before the hyenas come.

Yours truly,
David H. Reinarz

David H. Reinarz lives in Omaha, Nebraska. He recently retired from a long career as a retail bicycle shop manager. He is an alumnus of the 7 Doctors Writers Workshop and the author of a Story City: Ten Short Stories and One Long Story in the Middle. Published in 2016. It is available on Amazon.com, and he will donate 100 percent of Amazon royalties from all 2017 sales of Story City to the ACLU. His poem, “Album Cover: Songs from the Country Western Café” was published in the Winter 2017 issue of Plainsongs, Hastings College Press.

Photo credit: Ben Dalton via a Creative Commons licesnse.