People are wonderful. I love individuals. I hate groups of people. I hate a group of people with a common purpose. ‘Cause pretty soon they have little hats.
He continued:
So, I dislike and despise groups of people but I love individuals. Every person you look at; you can see the universe in their eyes, if you’re really looking.
A few days ago, tire tracks etched on the rainbow sidewalk in Prescott made the news. The mayor of the community said that it was “impossible to interpret the action this evening as anything but a statement of hatred toward the LGBTQ community.” Seems like a bit of an overreaction right, for something that visibly could have been accidental?
I’ve been musing about writing a short horror story grounded in reality.
So often the horror genre makes the object of fear a disfigured man, a man with mental illness, a trans woman, someone living in poverty, someone with an accent, a black or brown person. It echoes the ableism, classism, white supremacy, and exceptionalism of the dominant culture. If it’s not this, then it relies on the made up – ghosts, aliens – or is set in the past.
The agent of horror is never that suburban cishet white person doing the normal things they do in today’s world. It’s a missed opportunity because they can be plenty scary.
