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Blue Lives Never Really Mattered, Did They MAGAs?

MAGA friend, you can admit it now.

“Blue Lives” never really mattered to you, did they?

At least, not as much as your white life.

Don’t worry about letting us down or crushing our hopes.

We never really believed you anyway.

We could see what you were doing from the beginning even if you couldn’t.

That’s how delusion and self-denial work: the farther from them you are the easier they are to recognize, which is why you couldn’t see what was in the mirror staring back at you.

We all suspected Blue Lives Matter was a performative exercise: merely a desperate defensive gesture to deny the reality in front of you, a noisy and distracting redirection away from what your eyes were seeing and from what your mind could not accept.

When the murders of black people became too brazen, when the systemic supremacist poison of law enforcement paraded itself down the street without reservation, when the depth of the pervasive hatred afflicting our nation could no longer be denied—you needed an alternative truth that would exempt you from speaking and exonerate your guilt.

You needed a way out.

And so you crafted a convenient narrative that could move you from reluctant accomplice to valiant hero: a manufactured noble cause to support; a different reality where you were not in complete contempt of people of color, but an impartial, objective defender of “law and order.”

It was always a shaky and flimsy facade at best.

We could see through the cracks in your carefully couched Facebook posts, your off-hand subtle slurs at dinner, and your persistent white whataboutisms that defied logic—and into the depths of your cancerous heart. Yet you doubled down again and again, maybe to convince yourself as much as persuade us, and you thought at least you were partially successful.

But on a Wednesday afternoon in January, that all changed.

There on the steps of our Capitol, in the middle of the day and in the raking light of a watching world, your showy, empty display of reverence of law enforcement found itself under an attack it simply could not withstand.

You found your true allegiances assailed and you could not abide violence against them, despite how hypocritical that declared you, how exposed your fraudulence would be, and how irreparably the damage to your fragile mythology.

When it came time to choose police officers or supremacy, between those fighting for justice and a wave of inhumanity that carried your pigmentation, ratified your conspiracies, and shared your politics, the decision was instinctive: you had to align with white nationalism.

You had to preserve MAGA at any cost.

And so there on the steps of the Capitol and in the very halls of Congress, you watched Blue Lives crushed behind the force of a traitorous mob, you saw Blue Lives being beaten to death with the flags of your two white saviors, you saw Blue Lives surrounded and trampled by a throng of domestic terrorists.

And in that moment, all of your false stories burned away and all your empty platitudes dissolved; your black, white, and blue flags were torn to shreds.

And now, all that remains is you: uncovered and exposed and left to account for the depths of the heart that you carry in your chest and the truth about what kind of lives really matter to you.

Maybe it’s time to face the mirror.

No more white lies about blue lives.

 

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