Literal and metaphorical fires are burning everywhere, and I do not have a sufficient water supply. Who does for this conflagration?

But what is community for if not to bring those buckets together–those heavy buckets, rusty buckets, buckets with holes, buckets without handles, all the buckets belonging to those with sense and decency to know that we aren’t saving the world for ourselves if we don’t save it for everyone.

In any case, I don’t believe in ignoring disasters or in dwelling in tragedies. I have to fill the bucket and carry it.

As the saying goes, the only forward is through.

Going through isn’t going to be pretty, but I’m not here for cynicism and despair. I’m here to fill my bucket so I have something to throw on the fire.

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Thanks for reading. Fill your bucket.

And throw it at a fascist.