We are too loud, we are too strident. We should protest, but gently, softly. (Not unironically, very much like the sweet, girlish voice of Dr. Blasey Ford, whom they politely pretended to listen to, before ignoring.)
It feels to me almost like there is an epidemic of hate, of angry, shouting people who don’t want to hear or acknowledge the humanity of others. Like it’s influenza, or an alien entity, it’s as if people don’t feel safe unless they hate anyone or anything that is different or new or whatever, this miasmic THING is traveling around the United States, maybe the whole world, all red-faced and pointy-fingered at those people, over there, who are ruining it for the rest of us.
The tape running in my head, over and over during this time, was, “Remember every detail you can, so they can get this guy,” but somehow, almost nothing stuck. The only detail that burned into my brain was his boxer shorts: light blue, solid, with no pattern, with white trim around the edges.