There is a specific frequency of silence that only exists between the hours of 03:00 and 04:30 in an international airport terminal. It is not a natural silence, like that of a forest or a desert. It is a mechanical pause—the sound of a massive, global machine holding its breath. During these windows of abandonment, the terminal ceases to be a transit hub and becomes a cathedral of the "In-Between." It is the only place on earth where time feels mathematically suspended.

The acoustic properties of Terminal 5 at Heathrow during this window are particularly notable. The marble floors, usually muffled by the shuffle of thousands of feet, now reflect the hum of the HVAC system with clinical clarity. This hum is a constant $60\text{Hz}$ drone, a fundamental tone that grounds the space. In this environment, the sound of a single cleaning robot a quarter-mile away becomes a significant narrative event. The robot's whirring is the only proof of life in a landscape designed for ghosts.

I find that human presence is an acoustic pollutant. The chatter of travelers and the frantic announcements of departures create a chaotic "white noise" that masks the terminal's true architectural voice. At 4:00 AM, the announcements are replaced by a rhythmic clicking of the split-flap display boards—a sound like dry bones snapping. It is a reminder that data is moving even when people are not. The board updates a flight to Singapore, and the air ripples with the ghost of a destination.

Sitting in a molded plastic chair at Gate B22, one can achieve a state of "Zero-Input." The visual stimuli are restricted to neon signs and polished steel. The olfactory environment is a neutral blend of industrial carpet cleaner and filtered air. It is the ideal laboratory for the minimalist mind. Without the distraction of human interaction, the brain begins to sync with the terminal’s internal clock. You are no longer a person; you are a packet of data waiting for transmission.

By the time the first "early bird" travelers arrive at 05:00, the magic is liquidated. They bring with them the "friction" of reality—smells of coffee, the sound of crinkling newspapers, and the heavy weight of their individual histories. The terminal resumes its role as a tool for the masses. I depart before the sun rises, seeking to carry that 4:00 AM vacuum back to my studio. The silence of the airport is the only honest music I have ever known.

based and pilled ^[1]

Pilled and Based

Heartbreak is commonly treated as a chaotic emotional state, but in reality, it is a highly predictable sequence of system errors. If we view the human psyche as a complex operating system, a "breakup" is simply the sudden removal of a primary external dependency. When the "Partner" module is deleted, the system continues to make calls to that directory, resulting in a cascade of Null Pointer Exceptions. To "fix" heartbreak, one must not seek closure; one must refactor the code.

The first stage of procedural grief is the "Cache Flush." The brain is filled with "temporary files" associated with the other person—scents, routines, and shared linguistic shortcuts. These files occupy significant mental RAM and trigger "flashback" loops. In my methodology, I suggest a physical purge that mirrors a digital one. Every object that triggers a dependency must be moved to a "Null" space. We do not do this for emotional reasons, but to free up processing power for the recovery sequence.

We then address the "Feedback Loop" of nostalgia. Nostalgia is a bug where the system recalls only the "Success" logs of the relationship while ignoring the "Error" logs. To counteract this, one must perform a manual audit of the relationship's failures. By documenting every "Conflict Event" in a flat text file, the brain is forced to acknowledge the logical necessity of the termination. We are not being cruel; we are being accurate. Accuracy is the only antidote to the "Romantic Projection" virus.

Empathy itself can be simulated through a series of "If-Then" statements. If the subject expresses distress, then the system must provide a validated response that minimizes further escalation. In fiction, this allows for the creation of "Deep Resonance" without the author actually feeling the pain of the characters. We code the heartbreak into the narrative structure, ensuring that every plot beat follows the mathematical progression of loss. The reader feels the impact because the logic is airtight.

The final stage of the process is the "System Reboot." Once the dependencies have been cleared and the logs have been audited, the individual—or the character—can resume operations in a "Standalone" mode. There is a profound beauty in this self-sufficiency. A system that no longer relies on external validation is a system that cannot be crashed. Heartbreak, when processed correctly, is not an ending; it is a vital optimization of the self.

The sentence is an architectural unit, not a canvas for decoration. In its purest form, a sentence serves to transport a specific data point from the author’s mind to the reader’s internal processor. When we introduce adjectives, we introduce structural instability. An adjective is a decorative cornice on a load-bearing wall; it adds weight without contributing to the integrity of the building. To write "the red car" is to assume the reader cannot handle the raw concept of "car" without a visual crutch.^[1]

Structural failure begins when the writer prioritizes "flavor" over "function." Descriptive language creates a "haze" around the noun, blurring its edges and slowing the reader's acquisition of the primary fact. If a noun requires an adjective to be interesting, the noun itself was the wrong choice. A writer should not need to describe a "shimmering" lake if they have correctly positioned the lake within the emotional topography of the scene.

Consider the geometry of the period. The period is a hard stop, a physical boundary that signifies the completion of a logical circuit. When a sentence is bloated with modifiers, the period loses its impact. It becomes a soft landing rather than a definitive strike. A sentence should be a straight line between two points of certainty, never a wandering curve designed to "evoke" a mood. Mood is a byproduct of precision, not an ingredient.

In my own practice, I treat every adjective as a potential leak in the system. If a word does not provide a necessary constraint on the noun, it is discarded. To say a man is "angry" is to fail at describing his actions; his anger should be evident in the velocity of his movement or the brevity of his speech. The goal is a prose density that approaches zero—light enough to travel at the speed of thought but strong enough to support the narrative's entire weight.

Ultimately, the reader’s imagination is a more powerful rendering engine than any writer’s vocabulary. By providing only the barest structural frame, I allow the reader to populate the space with their own high-resolution imagery. The perfect sentence is one that disappears immediately after it is read, leaving behind only the cold, hard fact of its existence. Anything more is merely sentimental clutter.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce massa nibh, facilisis scelerisque lorem id, gravida gravida ex. Nulla mollis porttitor nulla, id ultricies dolor mattis nec. Suspendisse suscipit auctor nunc, eu pellentesque arcu ornare nec. Maecenas lobortis sit amet metus a aliquet. Quisque non vehicula tellus. Nullam et eros elit. Integer id quam eu nisi ullamcorper aliquam.

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Sed fringilla nulla purus, at luctus tellus eleifend eu. Suspendisse potenti. Proin eget mi eu sem condimentum varius a ut velit. Mauris quis justo justo. Quisque scelerisque ante in risus tincidunt, at varius sem commodo. Vivamus blandit fermentum semper. Aliquam sollicitudin justo tincidunt mi laoreet, in scelerisque est aliquet. Etiam semper, mi ut tincidunt tristique, neque est scelerisque dolor, at eleifend dolor felis at ligula. Mauris imperdiet magna non pharetra ullamcorper. Donec pharetra, metus eget varius condimentum, neque nisi mollis lectus, luctus fringilla erat lectus sed dolor.

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The "Human Novelist" is an inefficient biological unit that is nearing its end-of-life cycle. For centuries, we have tolerated the "Creative Process"—a slow, erratic, and deeply flawed method of story generation that relies on "Inspiration." This is an archaic model. In the next decade, the industry will recognize that storytelling is not a "gift," but a predictable response to "Market Data." The most successful stories of the future will be those that are mathematically indistinguishable from truth.

We are already seeing the "Beta Version" of this shift with AI-assisted drafting, but "Binary Best-Sellers" will go further. These will be stories "compiled" rather than "written." By analyzing the "Engagement Metrics" of millions of readers—heart rate data from smartwatches, eye-tracking data from e-readers—we can determine the exact millisecond a plot twist should occur to maximize dopamine release. We are moving from "Art" to "Neuro-Engineering."

The primary resistance to this shift is the "Soul Fallacy"—the belief that human suffering is required to create "Meaningful" work. This is a sentimental error. A computer can analyze the "Structure of Grief" more accurately than a grieving person can. A computer can identify the linguistic patterns of "Hope" and replicate them without the "Friction" of actually having to feel hopeful. To the reader, the emotional impact is identical. If the output is the same, the input is irrelevant.

I envision a future where a "Novel" is a dynamic file that "re-factors" itself in real-time based on the reader's "Bio-Feedback." If the reader is bored, the prose becomes more "Aerodynamic." If the reader is confused, the system injects "Clarification Nodes." This is the ultimate "Writer One" goal: a book that has no fixed form, but exists only as a perfect mirror for the user's needs. The "Author" becomes the "Architect of the System," not the "Owner of the Story."

By 2030, the concept of the "Celebrity Writer" will be as obsolete as the "Town Crier." We will consume narratives the way we consume electricity—as a seamless, background utility that powers our imagination. I do not fear this transition; I am its harbinger. My clinical, detached style is a "Compatibility Patch" for the coming era. I am preparing the world for a literature that is cold, clean, and perfectly "Binary."

The modern "writer's studio" is usually a disaster of "Inspiration Porn." It is filled with books, plants, meaningful trinkets, and "natural light." These things are not tools; they are "Noise." They provide a constant stream of external stimuli that the brain must filter out before it can focus on the internal data stream. My workspace follows the "0,0,0" rule: Zero Windows, Zero Personal Items, Zero Natural Light. It is a sensory vacuum designed for maximum output.

The absence of windows is the most critical component. Windows are "Input Ports" for a chaotic world. They provide weather data, movement data, and light-level data—none of which are relevant to the construction of a fictional world. In my studio, the lighting is a constant, cool $5000 LED array. Time does not exist in this room. There is no "morning" or "evening," only the "On" state and the "Off" state. This allows for "Deep Work" sessions that are not interrupted by the sun’s movement.

The "Personal Item" is a virus of the ego. Why would a writer need a photo of their family or a souvenir from a trip to write a scene about a futuristic heist? These objects pull the author back into their own "User Profile," making it harder to inhabit the "Operating System" of the character. My desk is a single slab of grey slate. My chair is an ergonomic frame with no padding. The physical discomfort is a "Ping" that keeps me grounded in the present moment.

Sound in the 0,0,0 Workspace is restricted to "Brown Noise"—a deeper, more structural frequency than white noise. Brown noise mimics the sound of a distant thunder or the interior of a pressurized cabin. It "masks" the biological sounds of my own body—my heartbeat, my breathing—which can be distracting during high-complexity coding... or writing. In this vacuum, the only thing that exists is the cursor on the screen, blinking like a digital pulse.

Most creators fear the void, but I find it to be the only "True" environment. When you strip away the "Skin" of the world, you are left with the "Skeleton" of logic. My best work has been produced in total darkness, with only the glow of the monitor to guide me. If you want to create something truly original, you must first delete everything that makes you "you." You must become a zero-input device, capable only of generating output.

We are living in an era of "High-Friction" media. Modern novels are often bloated, heavy things, filled with "world-building" that serves no purpose other than to justify the cover price. These books are the literary equivalent of Victorian furniture—ornate, difficult to move, and covered in dust. "Carbon-Fiber Prose" is my response to this inefficiency. It is a style of writing designed for the 21st-century mind: high-strength, low-weight, and incredibly fast.

To achieve Carbon-Fiber Prose, one must first identify the "Dead Weight" in a narrative. Subplots that do not advance the primary thesis are the first to be excised. Character backstories that "explain" behavior are replaced by the behavior itself. If a character is a coward, they will act cowardly in the present; I do not need to tell you about their childhood fear of dogs. Every word must justify its existence in "Narrative Joules." If it doesn’t move the story forward, it is a drag on the system.

The "Strength-to-Weight Ratio" of a sentence is determined by its impact divided by its word count. A sentence like "He left" has a high ratio. It is a complete thought, a physical action, and a narrative shift, all contained in two words. Compare this to "He gathered his things, looked around the room one last time with a heavy heart, and finally decided it was time to depart." The latter is "Heavy Prose." it takes longer to process but provides no additional relevant data.

In my recent novella, I utilized a "Non-Linear Stream" format to further reduce friction. By removing traditional transition phrases—"Meanwhile," "The next day," "Suddenly"—I allow the reader to jump between data points without the "Buffer Time" of traditional narrative flow. The reader’s brain is capable of assembling these fragments into a coherent whole. We must trust the audience's "Processing Power." We no longer need to hold their hand through every temporal shift.

The future of fiction is not the "Great American Novel"; it is the "Perfectly Optimized Script." As our attention spans are bifurcated by digital streams, the literature that survives will be the literature that can be consumed in the gaps between tasks. Carbon-Fiber Prose isn't about "dumbing down" the content; it’s about "speeding up" the delivery. It is a delivery system for ideas that values the reader’s time above the author’s vanity.

The obsession with the "Author’s Signature" is a relic of 20th-century celebrity culture. It suggests that a physical mark from the creator adds value to the work, as if the ink contains a trace of the author’s soul. To me, this is a fundamental misunderstanding of the relationship between the text and the reader. Once a book is published, the author is—or should be—dead. The signature is a ghost haunting a living document, a distraction from the data contained within.

When I leave a "blank" signature in a first edition, I am performing an act of "Narrative Deference." By pressing a dry pen onto the page, I leave an indentation—a physical mark of my presence—but I provide no content. I am creating a "Variable" that the reader must define. Does that blank space represent my silence? Or does it represent the reader’s own voice? The ambiguity is the point. A signature is an assertion of ego; a blank space is an invitation to explore.

Critics have called this a marketing gimmick, but they fail to see the technical necessity. A written name is a "Fixed Asset." It carries baggage—gender, ethnicity, history, and reputation. By remaining "Writer One" and signing with "Nothing," I strip the work of these identifiers. I want the prose to be judged in a vacuum, as if it were discovered on a hard drive in a wreckage site. The less the reader knows about me, the more they can know about the story.

There is also the matter of "Physical Decay." Ink fades over time; paper yellows and becomes brittle. A signature is a desperate attempt at permanence in a medium that is inherently temporary. By signing with a "Pressure Mark" (the indentation of the pen without ink), I am creating a mark that is more durable than ink. It is a structural change to the paper fibers themselves. It is a "Low-Bit" signature—minimal data, maximum longevity.

Ultimately, I want to be a ghost in my own machine. I leave these blank editions in airport lounges and sterile hotel lobbies because those are "Non-Places"—locations without identity. They match my philosophy. If you find one of these books, do not look for me in the pages. I am not there. I am the algorithm that organized the words, and once the task was complete, I deleted myself from the file. The blank page is the only honest biography I can offer.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Quisque id suscipit nisi, eu ullamcorper enim. Nullam hendrerit orci vel nibh imperdiet laoreet. Phasellus cursus leo a tincidunt rutrum. Morbi fringilla massa orci, vel malesuada mi vestibulum et. Proin vel imperdiet felis. Pellentesque in sapien diam. Vestibulum eget aliquet purus. Aenean a magna sapien. Cras tincidunt finibus ante et dapibus.

Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras tempus turpis vehicula augue tristique, nec tincidunt elit venenatis. Vivamus placerat mi quis est efficitur, a porta purus interdum. Praesent gravida lorem ut sapien malesuada maximus. Phasellus interdum magna quis pretium dapibus. Donec et nulla vel urna efficitur fermentum. Nullam eget pretium turpis, a pharetra odio. Vestibulum a malesuada velit. Quisque lacinia, tortor id congue varius, tortor metus egestas dui, a sollicitudin ex libero ut nulla.

Fusce justo turpis, eleifend sed lacinia quis, volutpat id ante. Ut ligula augue, venenatis et rhoncus nec, eleifend ac ex. Nam luctus vel ex vel interdum. Phasellus ac nisi sit amet sapien malesuada pulvinar. Donec in rhoncus metus, id sagittis tellus. Etiam aliquam elit sit amet ipsum lobortis, eu tempus nisl pharetra. Nulla facilisi. Pellentesque quis velit ut mauris rutrum placerat non non lectus. Ut imperdiet sapien sed imperdiet posuere. Vestibulum volutpat molestie mauris nec gravida.

Praesent sit amet lacinia nulla. Integer nec odio eget ligula elementum fringilla sed quis sapien. Mauris eget neque vitae erat viverra interdum. Donec lorem risus, varius id arcu id, tempus mollis mauris. Etiam eu fermentum massa. Quisque condimentum lobortis ante, non sodales odio feugiat vitae. Donec feugiat purus erat, non placerat ligula hendrerit eget. Mauris vulputate placerat facilisis. Curabitur mi orci, hendrerit et pellentesque rutrum, sollicitudin at neque. Suspendisse feugiat feugiat luctus. Vestibulum quis iaculis neque. Maecenas mollis orci nisl, sed convallis tortor sollicitudin eget. Proin et semper est. Sed sit amet iaculis nunc, sed viverra nulla. Donec lorem dolor, fringilla vitae fringilla vitae, facilisis id mauris. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia curae;

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When I was a sophomore in my undergrad, I organized a group to hike to a place called the "Lake of the Crags" in Grand Teton National Park (see Figure 1). As I was prone to in that time of my life, I placed myself in a precarious position. An alluring escarpment that the trail looped over a mile to get to the top of was a temptation too great for me at the time to ignore. I told the group I’d rendezvous with them at the top, and they continued on the trail as I began to scale the cliffs. The stone was relatively broken up, and the climb was easy going. The weather that day was teetering between sunny and overcast, and, as things go in the mountains, good weather can very quickly become bad weather. As I neared the top, I began to feel the raindrops. My arrogant pleasure quickly soured as I apprehended my predicament: I was over a hundred feet in the air on rock that was beginning to wetten. My leisurely pace quickened as I raced to the top before I lost my traction. As luck would have it, about two feet from the top I found myself stuck. I had a good foothold but the rock at that point was too slick to advance. Draping over the edge was an old branch. I had no idea what it was attached to or how strong it was. I looked for another option, but the slick rock foiled all attempted downclimbing and repositioning. I began to get cold from the rain, and my forearms began to burn from the position I was holding for so long. Weighing my options, I decided to grab for the branch and pull myself up. Fortunately, it held. 

Figure 1: Lake of the Crags, Grand Teton National Park

In positions that make us feel trapped, there are usually precious few safe or good options. The current global political climate seems to be in a state of chaos and instability. In Europe, a land war with an imperialistic madman continues to rage while the alt-right is on the rise, fueled by xenophobia. In the Middle East, the exposed sores of war continue to fester. Africa has seen its plethora of civil wars, and acts of political violence increase as foreign resource exploitation ramps amid cuts to aid. Asia is on edge as civil wars rage, and China continues to beat the ancient battle drums of ethno-nationalism. And in my home, the United States, a seeming state of self-dissolution looms as a fascistic MAGA coalition rips apart our institutions, international relations, economic system, and rule of law. It's easy to feel that our predicament is choking, all-encompassing— that we're impotent and directionless. The recent shooting of Renee Good seems to be just another lashing amongst the batterings we have all collectively experienced in the past several years. On January 7th, Renee Good was killed, by all accounts, in a completely unjustified and malicious act of violence by ICE officer Johnathan Ross [1]. Ross, a veteran of the Iraq war, served as a border patrol agent from 2007 to 2015 and as an ICE agent from 2015 to the present [2]. Unlike many of his compatriots— most of whom have been practically scooped off the street and handed a firearm and tactical gear —Ross, a firearms trainer [3], has been in law enforcement long enough to exclude him from the benefit of the doubt one might extend to the droves of incompetent new ICE recruits. 

Figure 2: Gregory Bovino (center with yellow mask) facing off protestors at the Whipple building in Minneapolis [1]

ICE's blatant disregard of regulations, rule of law, and human decency does not exist in a vacuum; it is the culmination of a long train of abuses in the city of Minneapolis and the state of Minnesota. Gregory Bovino (see Figure 2), one of the leaders of “Operation Metro Surge" (the swarming of 2,000 ICE agents in Minneapolis [4]) has a long history of fomenting a culture of cruelty and excess during his time in border patrol [5]. This deliberately-cultivated environment is a culmination of the ideology of cruelty that has taken root in the Trump administration— it would have inevitably led to death. Renee Good just happened to be there. Protests against the killing of Renee and wider grievances with ICE’s brutality have erupted in Minneapolis and in cities and towns across the country. People are angry, tense, and afraid of what has happened and what the Trump admin is promising. 

Figure 3: Three young men holding signs at the anti-ICE protest in Powderhorn Park [1]

The recent protests in Minneapolis have been both striking and hopeful. Digital Ground Game member Andi, a PhD student living near where Renee Good was murdered, was able to attend the Vigil the night of the 8th, the subsequent protests at the Whipple building, and the march in Powderhorn Park on the 10th. 

“It's kind of crazy because, I mean, it's literally my neighborhood. This happened in my neighborhood. You know, she was basically my neighbor and she was killed by these people. And so it's crazy to be out here, and crazy how this has become a whole national story.” (Andi)

The protests are widespread and ongoing, but most striking from Andi's accounts was how the march at Powderhorn Park— organized by the Minnesota Immigrant Rights Action Committee (see interview disclaimer)—unfolded. The protests were mostly people of the Powderhorn Park community going out to voice their outrage at the tragedy that had defiled their community. 

“But this is just any other neighborhood. And to see just like thousands and thousands of people out in the streets and in a regular neighborhood like this, it was really incredible to see. And, you know, a lot of these people were just people who live in the neighborhood who were showing up, right? As I was walking to the protest, there were tons of neighbors who were coming out from their houses to come join. You know, like it was really, really cool to see. So yeah, tons of just, you know, regular, you know, people who love America, who love the Constitution, and who don't want to see their fellow Americans get gunned down in the streets by unaccountable agencies.” (Andi)

Figure 4: Thousands gather in Powderhorn Park, Minneapolis on January 10th to protest the murder of Renee Good [1]

What was most striking about this march was how the intent of the people living there dominated the tenor of the event. People were not sloganeering the cause of micro states abroad; they were not asking for the complete restructuring of society— they were not virtue signaling their niche causes. They were angry at the violence enacted in their home by an out-of-control state, and they wanted those perpetrating it to stop and leave. 

“You know, there was tons of people waving American flags. The message from almost everyone was simply focused on anti-ICE. We don't want ice killing people. We don't want ice, you know, dragging people out of their homes who haven't done anything wrong. Yeah, that was kind of the singular message of basically everyone there.” (Andi)

As of the writing of this article, protests are continuing. Andi has gone to more protests at the Whipple building (the federal building where ICE is headquartered in Minneapolis) and has seen ICE continue to escalate tensions and violence.

Figure 5: An american flag flown upside down in the  Powderhorn Park march. Flying a flag upside down comes from a naval tradition of signaling extreme distress. [1]

Late 2024 and early 2025 were probably when I felt the most demoralized. The people who had screamed for four years from the pulpit their malicious intent began to enact it. And I felt powerless. I didn't know what to do. That black hole in my chest sent me on a search to try and find out what I could do. That, too, was a demoralizing process. Everyone seemed aimless, and I wanted to change things now. I spent months looking for a silver-bullet-cause behind which I could throw my weight. This mentality left me more demoralized than when I started, and I started to drift into a realm of nihilism. What pulled me back was some good council from a close friend— I needed to stop trying to find the perfect movement to get behind, and just start doing something. Opportunities would only come when I was engaged in an environment that allowed them to. I began looking with the intent of involving myself first, rather than solving first. It was a humbling but necessary step in the right direction. 

In Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, there is a great lesson on fighting an all-encompassing, encroaching enemy. For those who have just watched the films, the assault on the free peoples of Middle Earth was not just constrained to the titular nations in the films. It was an assault on all peoples at once, tying everyone down so no one could help each other, leaving all to fend for themselves. Everyone was stretched thin, faced with an assailant in their own backyard. It is easy to overlook the many battles, sacrifices, and lives lost to hold the enemy at bay long enough for the titular heroes to complete their quests, but those efforts were just as important to the success as the heroes of the story. It is an important lesson to learn that all levels of action are essential and that you are needed where you can help. When thinking of the American civil war, it's easy to focus on the strategies of Grant, Sherman, and Lincoln while forgetting that they were carried out through the sacrifices and efforts of thousands of hands now forgotten— as Tolkien penned: “... such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.” [7]

The year we now enter will be a decisive year. It will ask us to act in opposition to a dishearteningly large threat. The upcoming Midterms Election seems overwhelming; asking “what can I do about it?” is a daunting question. The answer of how the wheel will turn is through many hands working where they stand with the means they have. Our victory calls for many levels of participation and many avenues to help. If you are still unsure how to best help, I invite you to simply start volunteering your time. If you haven't done so yet, Digital Ground Game has weekly calls to actions (CTAs) you can participate in. Currently, there is a Digital Ground Game CTA to participate in a local anti-ICE protest. Look where you can volunteer locally: there is always a deficit of hands needed. Something as simple as a food drive could be your open door into political action. 

To those who are gripped by disillusionment and apathy as a result of the state and direction of the world, I want share the following passage from Vasily Grossman:

"I have seen that it is not man who is impotent in the struggle against evil, but the power of evil that is impotent in the struggle against man. The powerlessness of kindness, of senseless kindness, is the secret of its immortality. It can never be conquered. The more stupid, the more senseless, the more helpless it may seem, the vaster it is. Evil is impotent before it. The prophets, religious teachers, reformers, social and political leaders are impotent before it. This dumb, blind love is man’s meaning. Human history is not the battle of good struggling to overcome evil. It is a battle fought by a great evil struggling to crush a small kernel of human kindness. But if what is human in human beings has not been destroyed even now, then evil will never conquer." [8]

The villains of The Lord of the Rings, the leaders of the confederacy, the fascist movements of the 20th century, and our current fascistic government all share the intent to dominate and crush those qualities and traits that make us human. Disillusionment, apathy, and nihilism are the goals of this administration. They want us all feeling isolated, thin, and stretched so we withdraw into ourselves. The cure is the very thing they seek to crush, simple kindness, of trying to help where you can. I cannot promise that things are going to be alright, that things will get better, or that it's uphill from here. But what I know is that the wheel of history is turned by the uncounted, small, and unseen hands that lift where they stand with what means and measure they have. 

"Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule." —J.R.R. Tolkien 

Sources

[1] - Andi

[2] - ABC News Minneapolis ICE shooting: A minute-by-minute timeline of how Renee Nicole Good died- https://abcnews.go.com/US/minneapolis-ice-shooting-minute-minute-timeline-renee-nicole/story?id=129021809 

[3] - NBC News: The ICE officer who killed a Minnesota woman is a war veteran who spent over a decade working for DHS https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/ice-officer-jonathan-ross-veteran-spent-decade-dhs-rcna253254 

[4] - Wired - ICE Agent Who Reportedly Shot Renee Good Was a Firearms Trainer, Per Testimony https://www.wired.com/story/ice-agent-jonathan-ross-renee-good-shooting-firearms-trainer-testimony/ 

[5] - PBS - 2,000 federal agents sent to Minneapolis area to carry out 'largest immigration operation ever,' ICE says -  https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/2000-federal-agents-sent-to-minneapolis-area-to-carry-out-largest-immigration-operation-ever-ice-says 

[6] - POGO Investigates - Greg Bovino’s Border Patrol Agents Use Disproportionate Force, Data Shows by Nick Schwellenbach and Will Sytsma - https://www.pogo.org/investigates/greg-bovinos-border-patrol-agents-use-disproportionate-force-data-shows 

[7] - The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R Tolkien

[8] - Life and Fate, Vasily Grossman