Originally Performed at Sacred Fools in Los Angeles


Fuck. The. Republican. Party. 

I mean it. Fuck them all. I have no need for them in my life. I’ve really lost my patience. 

Fuck the assholes who voted for a tax break that will help the billionaires of this nation but royally fuck over the artists, middle class and good people that are honestly trying their best just to get by.

Fuck the President who has been accused of sexual assault and thinks his administration has the right to ban words like “fetus” in their last ditch effort to screw over abused women and continue pedaling their bullshit notion that women are less than men. 

Fuck the racist, bigot administration who preach about “The War on Christmas” when REALLY every single Christmas jingle was written by a Jew in Hollywood. Oy gevalt.

In short, my life since November 9th 2016 has been anything but chill. 

I call my friends and bitch about how the generation before us has done nothing to prepare us for life. I tell them that every day I worry that if I get harassed on the street but stand my ground, I get murdered. I cry and tell my friends about how even IF I was a victim of rape, my government wouldn’t want me to get an abortion. And while my friends tell me they would never tell women what to do with their bodies, they believe all babies deserve to be born.


…My friend is a Republican.

He and I don’t…always. See eye to eye?
He believes health care is a privilege, not a fundamental right.
He believes in his right to bear arms.
He believes that all lives matter.


His beliefs literally make my blood boil. 

Health care has to be available for all Americans, regardless of class or economic status. 

It would be so easy to ask for harder screenings for firearms.  He would get to keep his guns! 

Saying “Black Lives Matter” is not implying that All Lives Don’t Matter. 

I try to make excuses for him to my friends.

But. He’s still my friend. And while I have a hard time stomaching his political views, I still sleep at night - because he’s not an alt right Nazi.  

My friend raises his kids like how I was raised - we all have the same amount of responsibility, we are held to the same standards, and there are no sexist remarks about “how pretty” I look. Compliments are always about achievements and progress. 

He values hard work. It is not about the product, always about the process. “How did you get there, can you retrace your steps, what have you learned?”
He taught me about charity. I give a portion of my money to non-profits and volunteer at homeless shelters because according to him, “it’s not about what you get on Christmas, it’s about what you give.”

BUT, then again, IF he’s such a good guy then why doesn’t he believe what I believe? 

Because maybe.


Maybe believing in the same thing isn’t about right versus wrong in a literal sense? 

Ugh God, I really hate to say this, but…

Maybe this isn’t about red vs. blue. 

Maybe we need to mix that red and blue and make some sexy shades of purple. 


When the fires were going on in Los Angeles, my friend called me. Asked me what he could do to help the victims in the fires. Gave money to the first responders, and donated food to the people who had to evacuate. 


Pretty strong moral compass for a Republican. Maybe just fuck all Republicans except him?


At the end of the day, I have to believe that humanity is real. People care for other people. They just DO. This “liberal snowflake” can’t go through these new few years without that belief in my bones. I can’t take the news one more day if I don’t believe that “this too shall pass.” Because when I get down on my knees and pray to a God I’m not even sure exists, I have to believe that if some bad shit is headed our way, there’s something better coming on the horizon. This world keeps on turning, we can’t stop it. Even if they try to fucking ban words that explain how the world turns, we know how it works. We’ve come this far, and we’re not going back. 


President Cheeto got me into politics. I’ll never admit that he did something good for me, but it’s the truth. Hashtag #resist. 


When I was 18 and proudly voted for Barack Obama, my friend helped me break down the ballot.  He told me to vote with my heart and my gut, and once I was fully researched on the topic, to make an informed decision. 


Do other Republicans like my friend have good intentions? 


I read an article that explained when arguing, cold, hard facts don’t move people, but their own perseverance does. 

We’ve talked ourselves into corners we can’t get out of. You can literally see the corners we’ve trapped ourselves in on the voter turnout map of the United States. 

Our Republican brothers and sisters believe what they believe, and they don’t see eye to eye with us.  

Maybe they never will.

I believe that one advantage human beings have over every other species is their ability to cooperate. 

So what the hell do I do? 

Do we dare stretch our hands across the aisle and sit down with the 41% of white women who voted for Roy Moore? Not to blame, but to genuinely ask what they saw in that candidate who almost won. 

Do we talk to the “angry white man,” and ask why they feel threatened by embracing the idea of including people of color into the American narrative? 

Do we champion the people, red or blue who are constantly trying to sift through the bullshit and really understand what is happening in our country? 

How do we cooperate and make progress?

I’m assuming progress isn’t made by yelling into the endless void of the internet. (For however much longer the free internet exists, anyway.)

Because at the end of the day, I don’t believe my friend is a horrible man. 

I know he’s one of the best. 

And I know he respects my mind as a heterosexual-cisgender-liberal-feminist-opinionated woman.


Can we go so far as to care for our Republican brothers and sisters? I don’t know. 

But if the RESIST movement has taught me anything, it’s that:

We have our liberty. And that itself is a fuckin’ blessing.