Monday, November 28, 2016

Grumpy, Judgy, Don’t Care

2016. Why are you still here?!!!!? I’m over it. ‘It’ meaning everything. Today is one of those days where I just do not care and because of that you readers will just get a bit of a spew. If you don’t want to be spewed on then bounce now. If you are also over everything then let’s complain and be nasty little Bs together.

In no particular order some general gripes on basic crap.

Holidays – Why do they exist? Unless children are involved I feel like there should be a socially sanctioned right to not participate. Also, why do we have to have them back to back to back? Why???

iOS Updates – I just updated my phone and I hate it. The emojis are stupid, the alarm clock is stupid, the unlocking screen thing is stupid, the text options are stupid. The design/interfacing is getting so twee and granny at the same time. ALSO why did they make the gun emoji neon green?! I need the emoji gun in my life. NEED.

News Feeds – Where’s the good news sources at? Feels dull and I just seem to have 3 tabs of NYTimes open and that’s stupid on all levels.

Talking to People – Can we just squint and raise eyebrows from now on?

Dating – SOMEONE SAVE ME! (sike, leave me alone ((save me)) )

Cat Hair – Why isn’t there a better solution then tape on a roll that you have to change after you go over just one arm?

Couples – You are annoying.

Trendy Restaurants – For people with bad taste and disposable income.

Hair – Why do I have so much on my head and in my bed? (I’m having issues with hair apparently).

Money – Going out and buying drinks for everyone is not a sound fiscal plan.

Kitchen Stuff – Seriously sometimes think I should get married just to I can get kitchen stuff. #dark

Drugs – Over it.

Miami Basel – HAAAAAAAAA. No. How are people still into this shit?

Art and Politics – You are all tourists.

Steve Bannon – Can’t express in words how much he grosses me out. Imagine stale shit in your mouth with flies. That’s about close to it.

Texting – I hate men.

Expectations – Don’t have them so I can’t be disappointed. Works like a charm. (sobs while holding cat tightly in dark room)

Social Climbers – Really? Still think that’ll work? (It does but you suck).

Clothes – The having to go and try things on and finding stuff so your flesh bag doesn’t freeze.

! – I use these way more then I mean them!

Drinking – My liver is gunna fail me but how else can I be a part of this human race?

Getting to know someone new – Can’t we just make out and have our IQ scores tattooed on our faces?

Cheese – My doctor told me to eat more dairy to prevent osteoporosis and now I’m eating a lot of cheese and it’s making me chubby.

Internet – World Wide

Blogging – As the last blogger alive I would like to let you know that this sucks.

Talented People – When you see talented people do their talents and you think what a loaf you are and feel a pang of jealously but that quickly goes away because you think ‘pizza’ and also ‘we are all going to die’ and you feel better.

People in PhD Programs – We got it. Cool. Thanks.

Polyamory – I can barely even like one person at a time! Just admit it. You want to have sex with a lot of people but also are a slave to codependency. If that’s your thing then yeah, good luck with that.

Safe Space – It’s called a grave.

Stupid People – Some people are just not very smart. This is just the truth. If you find yourself having to deal with stupid people try to be nice. If they are mean and stupid though then print a large cut out of yourself and record yourself saying “Really…you don’t say” and put it in front of the stupid person. They won’t be able to tell the difference because they are stupid.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Kerry James Marshall, Mastry at The Met Breuer

The current retrospective exhibition of Kerry James Marshall, Mastry, at The Met Breuer is the one show that you must see right now. Whatever you had planned for the coming weekend(s), cancel it, and go see this show. It is not only a beautiful tour de force of painting it is a salve and an inspiration for this bizarre political situation we are all hostage too.

Marshall’s paintings are encapsulations of multiples but that density isn’t oppressive, rather they are nurturing in their complexity. Looking at his paintings is like looking at a rose. The perfection of the chaotic bloom is unnerving but all you can remember is that it is perfect, beautiful and the smell that lingers.

Mastry is a true testament to Marshall’s ridiculously high level of skill as a painter and also his vision as an artist. Being in front of his works and what they are depicting makes so much of what has recently been made in contemporary art feel like child’s play. His direct, personal, and unapologetic revelations and coding of race, history, the body, and all that was/is the dichotomy of oppressing/oppressed is subtly, silently but devastatingly rebalanced. His works makes you feel foolish for the intellectual somersaults you espouse and parry and the clarity of what he depicts feels like doors to understanding the most hidden and heavy ideas.

I could go on and on about this show. I wanted to but then I thought it would be more honest and right to let Marshall speak for himself. So much of art, politics, etc. are spoken on behalf-of. That in a way is a form of domination and authority. Today, right now, I don't want to do that. I don’t want to be that. Today I want to just highly, emphatically recommend that you see this show and to read the interview below so the context of it is broadened for you.

This is the first art show that I have seen since the election. If you have also been sitting at home, not going out and not thinking art matters right now, then go see this show. Art does matter and if you need any convincing this show will leave no doubt of that.

By Antwaun Sargent - Originally Published 04/22/16 in Interview Magazine

Kerry James Marshall moved to Los Angeles with his family from Birmingham, Alabama in the 1960s, swept up by the Great Migration, like many other African-American families living in the Jim Crow south. Once on the West Coast, Marshall studied art and began a practice that would soon morph from collage into figurative painting. Now 60 years old and based in Chicago, the painter continues to draw inspiration from 20th century modernists, such as Romare Bearden, and the Civil Rights Movement. Tomorrow, his retrospective "Kerry James Marshall: Mastry" opens at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago before traveling to New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art and MoCA L.A.

In 1980, after Marshall read Robert Vickery and Diane Cochrane's New Techniques in Egg Tempera and Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man, Marshall began working with tempera and created his first seminal work, A Portrait of the Artist as a Shadow of His Former Self. The painting depicts a black figure, dressed in a black suit and a black hat, against a flat black backdrop. The figure's shirt, eyes, and teeth, which form into a grinning gap-tooth smile, are visibly white, while the rest of the man, depending on vantage point, is rendered nearly invisible. Although this work reflects Ellison's writing as a black man in 1950s America ("I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me"), it simultaneously draws attention to widely accepted views of African-Americans and how African-Americans see themselves—two thematic references that resound throughout the artist's 35-year figurative engagement with art history and an illustration of the fact that, put simply, black lives matter. 

"Kerry James Marshall: Mastry" chronicles the evolution of Marshall's portraiture, revealing why he has become one of the most important living artists of today. "I hew so closely and have committed to staying with the figure to demonstrate that there is a lot of room for exploration, that the field of representation, even in painting, is not completely exhausted yet," the artist explains. Each of his series and individual works touches on a specific aspect or struggle of contemporary black life: the "Garden Project" series comments on the notion of black community; Self-Portrait of the Artist as a Super Model addresses the concept of black beauty; and BlackStar II and Watts reflect black protests.

Prior to the opening in Chicago, we spoke to the artist over the phone while he was at his studio.

ANTWAUN SARGENT: "Mastry" begins with your 1980 painting, Portrait of the Artist as a Shadow of His Former Self. Because it represents a shift from your earlier collage works to the mainstay of your concerns, looking back, does it feel like a manifesto of sorts?

KERRY JAMES MARSHALL: You can describe it as a manifesto of sorts. I saw it as a pivotal turn, a work that really led me down the avenues that brought me to where I am. That picture was the vehicle that helped me clarify a lot of things and I began to understand that I wanted to do. It became an instrument I could use to build a lot of things, which meant I was free to use other devices that helped me more fully articulate what I thought of the image in the first place. It was a way of demonstrating that there was a broad range of possibilities and fairly unlimited utility for a black figure that didn't have to comprise its blackness in order to preserve a place in the field of representation.

SARGENT: Portrait of the Artist as a Shadow of His Former Self is executed in egg tempera, which was a technique employed in Renaissance paintings before the preeminence of oil painting. Was using that technique about elevating your point?

MARSHALL: Yeah. If you look at the image, it treads on a kind of popular stereotypical image of the black figure, in both its flatness and slightly comic edge. To take that image as a starting point and to render it in a proto-classical medium, like egg tempera, and then use a repertoire of classical compositional devices to make the picture was a way of setting up an engagement with art history. The amount of analytical energy that went into constructing the figure shows, on some level, that there is almost a complete contradiction of what the figure looks like. So it was a way of trying to enforce an intellectual engagement with the picture, as opposed to the tendency to read images like that in the folk art manner.

Artwork operates on two different levels: On one level there's artwork as a mode of expressivity, and then there's the other side, where the image is a construction that is meant to engage in a discursive field in order to preform a particular function. That's the kind of work I am trying to get that image to do; I want people to understand that this is a very calibrated image, where point by point, very little is left to chance.

SARGENT: You've said that Invisible Man had a great effect on your early painting. In what ways did Ellison's novel inform your understanding of 1980s politics?

MARSHALL: The condition of visibility as it relates to black people was crucial. Connected to that, I've always been interested in science fiction and horror films and was acutely aware of the political and social implications of Ralph Ellison's description of invisibility as it relates to black people, as opposed to the kind of retinal invisibility that H.G. Wells described in his novel Invisible Man. In Ellison's case, it's more psychological than it is phenomenal, and it's conditioned by anger, animosity, and lack of desire to engage with the black body. There was always simultaneity that had nothing to do with visuality. You can be there and not be there at the same time and be fully visible all the time. That's what really struck me about Ellison and that's what led me to start working with figures that were painted black—trying to find a way to embody that simultaneous presence and absence. What I preserved in the figures are those white eyes and white teeth, because that's still connected to the way in which blackness, in the extreme, has been stigmatized and the way it was often joked that you couldn't see black people in the dark until they had their eyes open or were smiling.

SARGENT: All the figures in your art are black, yet that blackness has been described as matte black, jet black, obsidian black, charcoal black, ebony black, and pitch black, among many others. How do you describe the color?

MARSHALL: There are a couple of ways that I approach it. When I started, I was aware of using the black as a rhetorical device. It's understanding that black people come in a wide range of colors, but you find instances in a lot of black literature in which the blackness is used as a metaphor. In some places you can find an extreme blackness used as a descriptive. I also take into account historical realities that some of this range in color is the legacy of white supremacy. The privileged position of whiteness doesn't allow for someone with one drop of Negro blood to be considered white, which allows whiteness to be a fairly pure category while blackness has to absorb an expansive reality of representation. Part of what I am dealing with, with this blackness, is asking the question, "Where are those black people, who are as dark as the description of a young black boy that Solomon Northup gives in 12 Years A Slave?" He describes the young black 14-year-old boy as "blacker than any crow." You have to question if he is using that metaphorically or as a descriptive? You have to question, where are those black people? Part of the history of black people in the western hemisphere, in some ways, has been fleeing from this notion that they were black. So I can represent an ideal, and with that, you can demonstrate that there is nothing to be afraid of, nothing to run from, and that, in fact, a good deal of beauty that resides there.

SARGENT: Your use of the color black is also a conversation with 20th century abstraction. Black Painting, for example, is one way of exploring abstract notions of blackness through this ideal form.

MARSHALL: It's forcing the issue of perception by rendering an image that is just at the edge of perception, which in someway forces you to look more closely and for you to adjust your vision so you can see in the dark. Abstraction and representation are supposed to be going down two very different paths, one sociological and the other aesthetic. The way I see it is if you're going to deal with black representation, you also have to show that you can do two things at once. You can be completely invested in the image and also the idea of the aesthetic experience of the object.

SARGENT: Is that also your engagement with Renaissance painting in works like Untitled (Studio), where you see Paul Cézanne's influence? Are you doing two things at once?

MARSHALL: Yeah, and sometimes I have three balls in the air at once. [laughs] I used to always say—and I think a lot of artists think of it this way—that when you see a black figure, the way the critical establishment operated, you can only imagine that figure having a sociological value. They never say the ways in which their aesthetics were equally worthy of consideration.

That was the thing that always kept black artists outside of the discourse—not whether the work was relevant, but was it engaged in the modernist and avant-garde practices white artists were engaged in? I think the approach that I've taken, which is fairly instrumental and strategic, is to deploy the principles that the people who theorized the value of artwork said were important. After 1958, you couldn't come into the art world thinking you were going to be personally expressive.  The permutation of what an artwork can be had been codified before I was even born, so my job is different; I came in making choices about how I deploy aesthetics and imagery strategically. It seems to me that's the only legitimate way of making work.

SARGENT: In 2014, you created your Blot paintings. What drove you to abstraction after all these years?

MARSHALL: I don't see those paintings as abstractions, especially because they are emblems of the inkblot. They aren't smashed together; they are constructed shape-by-shape, layer-by-layer, like any other picture. The appearance is the allusion of abstraction when in fact I am in control of every aspect of that symmetry. What I was trying to construct was relative symmetry, where it seems clear that the shapes have arrived through consideration.

SARGENT: The idea of a western encyclopedic museum comes up in your work, particularly in the way that museums have maintained race as a naturalized category, and you get at that in Beauty Examined (1993)What do you think a museum should be in the 21st century?

MARSHALL: I think the museum should be an arena in which ideals can hash it out, fight it out, tooth and nail, for attention. The moment you introduce difference into a museum, then the privileged space is contested, and under the most ideal circumstances what all artists want is the chance to be competitive. That's what I think the museum is supposed to be. Before people outside of the Western European tradition started asking to be in there, the people who were accumulating objects for the museum were perfectly satisfied with the narrative they were constructing. On some level, you can say that's what they were supposed to do, and if we continue to let them, on some level that's on us. No one has a right to occupy the privileged position all the time, so it should be contested. It should always be messy in there.

SARGENT: Your piece Rythm Mastr allows for narratives to be told in a different medium. What lead you to comics?

MARSHALL: Like a lot of young people who wanted to be artists, comics were a gateway for me. Comics were a place where captivating images lit your imagination and showed you that you can create new kinds of people and worlds. Comics also led a lot of young people to science fiction. But just like in the art museum, and notions of beauty and pleasure, if the hero is always a white guy with a squared jaw or pretty woman with big breasts, then kids start thinking that's how it's supposed to be. Part of the problem was that black comic book artists were making super heroes with the same pattern as the white super heroes. When you read a lot of those comics, the black super heroes don't seem to have anything to do.

I just thought someone has to figure out how to break through that barrier and create a narrative for a black super hero story to unfold at the same scale as something like Star Wars. Rythm Mastr is about producing a narrative of a hero engaged in a struggle as complicated as those other stories. The catalyst for it was the beginning of the demolition of public housing in Chicago. When State Way Gardens and The Robert Taylor Homes were being torn down, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to use that as a backdrop for the development of a super hero narrative.

SARGENT: You've really placed black people and their experiences in the American museum. For example, in De Style, black figures are seen in the barbershop, a place that accurately reflects an important aspect of black culture.

MARSHALL: Since you mentioned the barbershop painting, there's a beauty shop companion called School of Beauty, School of Culture at the Birmingham Museum of Art. I got an email that said a couple had a guerrilla wedding in front of that picture. They slipped into the museum with a preacher and had their wedding ceremony in front of it. It turns out that the woman is a beautician and the man is a barber, they had seen that picture, and they said it was the perfect place to get married.

SARGENT: The title of the show is "Mastry," so what have you mastered in the last 35 years?

MARSHALL: [laughs] Nothing. No, you know, it's a struggle from picture to picture to get it right. That's one of the reasons I still make paintings and use the figure; it's hard to do and hard to succeed. On some levels, because I am working with black figures and black pigment, it's even harder because I have to be more responsible for the image. I try to be really careful about the presence the figure projects.

Monday, November 14, 2016

White People

It hasn’t even been a week yet. Can anyone think of anything else besides the election results of last week? I am only starting too, but wow. These past few days have been a blur. I woke up the following morning and googled ‘stages of grief,’ in preparation for what the coming days would be like. The night of the election I drank way too much for a weekday, I binge ate nervously as the results came in, I took a nap to avoid the inevitable and to pretend that when I woke up, it would all have been a dream.

The next day I had a pressing urge to have sex, wallow, and my body felt the same as it sometimes has during a depression spell, heavy and stooped. I met up with a friend the next day and my brain felt broken. I couldn’t think well or talk well and I cried over shitty tapas. We walked over to the protest at Union Square. I never go to protests as I feel they are symptomatic of something veiled but I must admit that after walking for a few blocks, in the rain, with other people I felt a bit better. I’m not sure it was cathartic but it helped me snap out of my natural tendencies, which can include debilitating melancholy and narcissistic self-pity.

Then it was the following day and the reality of having to say that the President of the United States would be Donald Trump starting sinking in. That we would have to ACTUALLY say ‘President Trump’ for the next four years flooded into my pores like hot fire. In addition, my brain started to work again and what it was working over was how and why this happened.

Like many of us I have been inundated by our social media feeds with links, petitions, wails, pleas and explanations. And also like most of us these social groups are essentially feedback loops of our own predispositions and views. I am a part of the liberal (far) left and probably 90% of the people I interact with, online and in real life, are also this or at least something along those lines. But I also grew up in New Jersey and although it’s only an hour and a half drive, it is another world and I know that world well because I grew up in it.

Let me tell you a little about this town. It is diverse to a certain extent. It has a large Jewish community, black people, Indian, a handful of Asians, and Latinos, but it is mostly middle to upper middle class Christian white people. This area used to be farming land (yes Jersey has farms) and one time when I was in High School the town was on the news because a giant swastika was crop circled into a field which was discovered by an overhead helicopter that happened to fly over it. Another time as I was waiting in the car for my mom to get out of the grocery store, a middle age white woman started screaming at me and telling me to go back to where I came from. I distinctly remember spit coming from her mouth as she yelled. These are just a few things of many.

This one small town is all over America and they are not ‘bad’ places but these types of things happen all the time across the land. In our cosmopolitan bubbles we don’t want to admit this and don't have to most the time because we are in this bubble and we like this bubble. The America that voted for Trump spreads far, wide and deep as this election reflects and it is real. Very very real.

When thinking about this America and the how and the why my brain just blinked WHITE PEOPLE over and over again.

Before anyone looses their shit let me explain what I mean by ‘White People.’

If you are a person of color, black, brown, yellow and shades in between America is a very different place, every day, all the time, everywhere. This country was literally built, torn apart and still entwined with racism. Racism is not just bigotry. Everyone can be a bigot. What makes racism different is the structural, empowered element of it. Racism is prejudice that is supported and upheld by laws, power, money and control. Let’s not try to be polite. White People in this country are the ones that have been in power and are still in power. As this country’s grown, there has been progress regarding rights, civil liberties and cultural shifts that have assuaged some of this. In that progress the balance of who is in power, or who feels like they are in power, has begun to shift. White people have lost some of this and they feel it and if this election doesn’t reveal how visceral that loss is and then wake up.

The above is all known. This is not a surprise and I’m not trying to insult anyone. It is just facts. I am not saying all White People are racist. Not by any means. But the truth is that if you are white and you live in this country you benefit from racist structures. Your day to day is different. Your psychology is different. The way that you perceive the world, yourself, and your capacity is different. This is not someone’s ‘fault.’ Being born white is uncontrollable as being born not white but the truth of those differences must be admitted to and conceptually absorbed.

During these last few days this idea of ‘White People’ has not only been focused on the above. I know all this and think this all the time. What I have been grappling with is the liberal side, the white allies and friends and the streams of people that have been wailing online and in person about the election. Dave Chappelle’s opener on Saturday Night Live hit so many of these points on the nose. White people are so mad. They are livid with this outcome. People of color are too, so is every other disenfranchised group in America, but there is a notable difference on the scale of reaction.

People of color in this country are not surprised. We are not surprised that a candidate supported by White Nationalists, the KKK and who has literally punked the entire country with racist, sexist, demagogic rhetoric has won. We are not surprised and we are not publically lashing ourselves with despair because this is how shit is. This doesn’t mean we like it or will lie down and float with the tide but this is not a complete shock. White people on the liberal left on the other hand are freaking the fuck out. Rightfully so but in addition to the absurdity that is Trump, I think the fact that this is a slap in the face and a reflection pool back onto themselves is just as jarring.

The left is totally fucked and it needs to wake up and stop self-obsessing and stop competing for who is the most victimized. This includes all of us and I am singling out White People in this post because like it or not you have the power. Do something with it. Help us. Only together can we make things better.

We all want the same thing really. Freedom.

If you need to wear pins, shout in the streets, wring your hands and cry. Do it. We all need to cope in the way that feels right but afterwards, snap out of it and get involved. Really get involved and surround yourself with people who don’t look like you, talk like you or even think like you.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Why Voting Matters

Tomorrow is Election Day and it doesn’t seem like it could come fast enough. This is the sentiment that everyone is feeling, Left, Right, Center, and all the statements of it being the most bat-shit-insane election cycle does not need to be reiterated. I actually follow politics and enjoy staying abreast of what is happening. I regularly read the news, listen to it and download podcasts specifically focused on it. I am not a wonk but I think it is important to understand it because it is important to understand. This interest has been cranked up to an almost debilitating degree due to this election but nonetheless the stakes are high and people shouldn’t just check out or say fuck it and most importantly to sit it out and not vote.

I have had a few conversations with my oh-so-‘liberal’ friends and many say flatly that they are not going to vote because 1) in NY it doesn’t matter (it is a blue state) 2) that the system sucks so what’s the point and 3) that they would rather see the system self implode then to keep the status quo. I get it. I agree with much of it. But come on people! Trump is running to be the next President of the United State of America! (Gahhh) The Supreme Court is in the balance. These things are bigger then your ideological super-egos and they matter to people beyond just your accelerationist – Žižek zeal.

Things are fucked. Things do need to change. Things should get better, faster, sooner but this only changes with persistence, contribution and action. Bernie Sanders has been a part of the government structure fighting his fight for decades. His effectiveness and legitimacy comes from his life’s work, which includes being a part of the system that he is trying to change. Do you want a revolution? If that happens you know who suffers first and the most? The poor. People of color. Children.

Clinton is flawed but there is no way I’m not voting for her. She is a part of the system; this is both good and bad. People seem to not grasp the concept that America is massive, diverse, and complex as hell. She is a wonk; she has been in this for a very long time and in roles that were only permissible for women at those times. If she were a man everything would be different. The level of overt sexism and misogyny directed at her from nearly everyone is disgusting. I know why many of my own family members disparage her because I know these people. They are of a certain generation/time where women just are not and will never be seen as equals. It’s like a conceptual brick wall that they just keep bashing their head into.

Being a women running for President is also extremely important in another way and that is: we live in a time of symbols. The message of the symbol has an impact in ways that are immeasurable, multi-generational, psychically realigning. There is no metric to the cultural shift that would occur if we elect a female president.

In a similar vain I could just slap those that say things like Barak Obama hasn’t done anything for African Americans. They say how he hasn’t done enough for Black Lives Matter, hasn’t changed things fast enough or has been vocal enough. Really? Really? This mostly comes from the same ‘liberal’ white people that I am surrounded by via the art world and it is just astonishing how obtuse that way of thinking is. Barak Obama was the first African American President and his legacy is to make sure that he isn’t the last. All the madness of cops and gun violence towards the African American community is in fact a result of his Presidency. Not as a cause but as a wake up and revelation of what has been happening for years, decades, generations. His calls for gun control have been ceaselessly blocked in Congress. He has been a good President in the face of an intractable House and Senate and I will literally cry when he leaves office.

Also the fact that someone like Trump and his vile rhetoric has gotten to the place it is, and he is the actual nominee for President, is also a direct result of the Obama legacy. All the racism that is still infecting the country is seething for recompense and in a death throws trying to counter the new realities of who is American and what it will look like in race, gender and religion in the coming years.

My British friend asked about the concept of what ‘Being American’ even meant. They didn’t understand how that could be a descriptive qualifier. I said that this made sense to me. This idea of ‘Being an American’ is a self-identifying concept for many in the US and for me personally. I was born in another country but grew up, was raised and have been given freedoms, opportunities, advantages, privileges, and access to a life that has been productive, good, and secure. I am Asian, a women, an anti-capitalist, feminist, and get sickened by neo-liberal stratagems but even with that I do feel and am proud to be an American. When the National Anthem is sung at sporting events I sometimes get chills. When I think about the diversity in this huge country and the basic qualities of the people who live here, regardless of their party line, I see them as good, kind and caring. I have family and some friends who think very differently then me and although those differences feel insurmountable at times I still love them and they love me in return.

This election is about being an American. It is about wanting to see change and making a difference. Voting is essential to this. The idea of voting as being a farce and useless in some ways does have valid argument but it is also a symbol. It is a psychology. It is not just about one vote - your vote. But it is about the collective participation of this civic right and duty. If we all sit out and think it doesn’t matter then that is infectious.

How do women get more rights? How do students get better a education? How do the elderly keep Medicaid? How do workers get better pay and better jobs? How do Latinos not get deported? How do African American communities grow? How does LGBTQ rights get constitutionalized? How do corporations get stopped from monopolizing our water, food and homes? BY VOTING!

For those that still refuse. Fine. It’s your prerogative. But seriously, don’t, just don’t complain and act the martyr if this turns out poorly.