The Day America Died

January 6th will be the motherload of all virtue signaling. A culmination of feelings of victimhood by those who wield the most power in the American hierarchy. A chance for those who live the most privileged and advantaged lives to play the victim while convincing the peasants to polish the ivory towers in which they reside to a brilliant shine. I do not doubt that we will witness a parade of the privileged moaning and bellering about how the mere presence of their constituents walking around in the Capitol building was a threat to the distorted democracy they hold so dear.

Corporate media will spend the day standing on the backs of the proletariat holding their dixie cups, hoping to catch the teardrops falling from the eyes of the privileged. No outlet dare speak of the reasons the people gathered or the inconsistencies of the 2020 election.  A testament to the sheer power the government now holds and the extensive authority by which they govern. That those whose priority should be to rein in an overbearing government but instead parrot the fairy-tale narrative from their all-encompassing squawk boxes.

January 6th, the day democracy died.

This is my voice, my narrative.

The way I perceive the events of that day.

What I witnessed was the disenfranchisement of millions of voters who lost faith in an idea that existed since the ink was still wet on the Declaration of Independence.  A day in which many learned a lesson in reality—that democracy and legitimate elections are an imagined dream that only exists in the voices of those who tell us that it’s real. Millions of people watched the live streams of America’s death. The truth of what we’ve become. The realization that the things we’ve condemned and fought bitter battles over in far-off lands are now the circumstances in which we all live.  I watched the sparkle in their eyes diminish and their dreams crushed by powerful corrupt rulers who backed a corrupt process. The third world is no longer knocking at our doorstep. They’re inside the house.

I will spend the day remembering the people who lost their lives that day.

Ashley Babbit

Kevin Greeson

Benjamin Phillips

Rosanne Boyland

Brian Sicknick

I refuse to allow the privileged to hijack their memory with talk of erecting a statue upon the epitaph of their graves. All of which were victims of circumstance. Victims of the idea that somehow their voices mattered and that they could affect change in a nation whose foundation was built upon the concept that we are ruled for and by the people. The thought that justice is real and equal protection exists under the law. The thought that we are a free people with a voice in determining our future.

The anniversary of January 6th belongs to them and the people that rose up to right a wrong. No amount of feigned outrage will change the meaning of this day to me. The mendacity of our rulers and the propaganda from a loose-lipped press will not change my belief. No hearings, live TV events, fake investigations, statues, or committees with fake Republicans will sway me into granting you ownership of January the 6th. The appropriate investigation would be into what led up to the events of that day. An investigation of the complete and total chaos encouraged and endorsed by the Democrats throughout the entirety of the Trump presidency and how Hollywood, corporate America, and the press spent those four years undermining and usurping the voice of the people. This is where investigations should begin instead of watching our rulers wallow in self-pity while stroking their egos.

Today I mourn the loss of the American idea. A year ago that idea died. The once shining crown jewel of democracy and all that is good was burnt to ash. Never forget the sacrifices they made regardless of acknowledgment and above all never be silent.