As…let’s say, a writer, yknow, looking at…the narrative of our attempts at resistance to fascism? Yeah, as a WRITER, looking at the NARRATIVE. I truly think folks have got to get more unhinged with protesting. 

(Not violently—I’m not promoting violence, imaginary legal team!)

Just absolutely UNHINGED. Feral. Utterly off our nut. 

Yknow, if this were a story, I mean. All that follows this? It is all a story. A hypothetical, satirical piece of dystopian metafiction. Really! I’m an author. No, honestly, I am, look it up. Totally an author, totally just speaking in literary evaluation of the plot of American antifascist efforts as narrative content. Absolutely, totally.

But, yknow, *as a story,* it’s missing something. 

And that something? 

Is A CEASELESS TORRENT OF BEAUTIFUL, CHAOTIC MADNESS. 

We should start showing up to protests with bagpipes and drums and kazoos and *refusing to stop making them make noise* until we get human rights back. 

“You! Officer! Where is all this drumming coming from?”

“Um. We’re working on it, but. It seems to be coming from EVERYWHERE, sir? Some of them are just drumming from home with the windows open. Others are blasting the drums over car speakers. We’re getting reports that workers are stopping mid-task to start banging things against whatever’s nearby to join in.”

“Nonsense, officer! People wouldn’t leave their jobs to do something so nonsensical! Round up these troublemakers! And for god’s sake, stop whoever’s strangling that goose!” 

“Well, we did actually secure the initial bagpiper, sir, but several more immediately started up. The echoing is making them very hard to locate, and some seem to just be dummy ones—just speakers blaring bagpipes from rooftops and people’s pockets.” 

Can’t play the bagpipes? Got no rhythm?

That’s not a bug, that’s a FEATURE! 😀

“Officer! What’s going on? Our server crashed, and the phone lines are all tied up with noise complaints.”

“We keep detaining drummers, but now the ones still out there are all playing different beats. It’s—well, frankly, it’s pure katzenjammer, sir.”

Like…wear face paint. 

Wear masks. (Please, as a disabled person who can’t join street action largely because people don’t mask en masse, WEAR MASKS.)

Wear glitter. 

Wear COSPLAY. Seriously, the more ridiculous and recognizable the better. 

Dance and drum in the street. 

Bring the kids. Bring the grandparents. Bring the wheelchairs. 

Stand outside and SCREAM.

“WHAT is that unholy racket, officer??” 

“Well, sir, there seem to be a bunch of people dressed as superheroes, robots, and cartoon characters swarming the streets. They were originally just marching and doing TikTok dances to the drums, but when we got them surrounded, they all just kinda…stopped, and stood still. And then—then, well—“

“Spit it out, officer!” 

“They just started screaming, sir. Shrieking, really. This unholy, unnerving shrieking. All of them, all at once. If one pauses to breathe, the others just continue.”

“And? What are you doing about it?” 

“Well, sir, we were about to deploy tear gas and firehoses, but they have an outer perimeter of children, pregnant women, the elderly, and people in wheelchairs.”

“So what?”

“Well, sir…it’s just, the optics. There are quite a lot of news vans and people filming on cell phones. Several well known drag queens are dressed as famous princess and superhero characters, and appear to be acting as independent broadcasters, describing the scene in character as if they’re really characters under attack by evil forces, sir. Initial responses from the public are…not quite in our favor.“

And when you stand up to be chaotic, don’t think like individuals. 

Think like family. Everyone resisting is your sibling, whether you like each other and get along or not. 

Think like community. You pull up the person beside you if they fall. You feed them if they’re hungry and you have food; if you don’t, you find food together. 

Bring all the resources we have access to. 

Spend our own time, our own money, our own resources. 

We need to organize and bring and share everything we can, and make a real push like it MATTERS. 

If not now, when? 

Once they’ve thinned our numbers even more?

No, it’s time to stand outside and scream.

If you can’t go outside and scream, scream from inside. Drum from inside. Play bagpipes from inside. Hang speakers out the window and blast the sound of chaotic pixie giggling at full volume. 

“Hmph. Well, they’ll have to stop shrieking to eat and sleep eventually. Surround them, officer; we’ll wait them out.” 

“Um, well, sir…”

“What NOW?” 

“We would, sir, but they seem to be sleeping in shifts, and, well…they apparently brought provisions. Folks from the local Renaissance Faire and SCA are directing the setup of what looks like a long-term encampment. Several port-o-potties were dropped off, seemingly donated. Large tents have been erected, places for people to rest, and they’ve got doctors and pharmacists who seem to have brought medical supplies to distribute as needed. Several food trucks with their logos and licenses covered have parked in a makeshift rear guard to their forces, and are distributing food and water, seemingly for free.” 

“FREE? There’s no such thing as a free lunch, officer! Don’t they know how the world WORKS?” 

“Well, sir, the one food truck worker we managed to detain said that a bunch of grocery store and restaurant workers donated expiring food that was still good but required to be thrown away. Apparently there’s quite a lot of it? Anyway, that’s how there’s so many more of them than expected—they’re offering free food, and somebody seems to have informed the students.”

“Which students, officer? College? Primary, secondary?”

“Well…all of them, sir? College students have been flooding in ceaselessly—we’ve spotted flyers advertising free food posted all around local campuses. But more than that, sir. Apparently several teachers, parents, and school cafeteria workers have joined forces, and are listing the school lunch debts of anyone who joins them as paid, and giving them all free food for the duration of the protest.” 

Staying quiet and staying home will not save a single one of us, it will only doom us to live whatever’s left of our lives cowering in fear and living as something other, lesser, than ourselves. 

Now is the time to be our truest, weirdest selves, loudly, together.

We need to get CREATIVELY WEIRD. 

If you can’t contribute traditionally, if you can’t leave home to join in, contribute from home and contribute BIZARRELY. 

“This is absurd, officer. We are the LAW! What about the K-9 units?”

“Uh, well, we’re working on it, sir, but the dogs are refusing to approach the perimeter, and there’s a really weird smell. One of the guys is a hunter, and he recognized the smell—he said they seem to have surrounded the perimeter with…uhh…predator pee, sir.” 

“WHAT?” 

“Apparently, the…uh, the urine of stronger predators discourages dogs from approaching? We got a few of the more veteran dogs to ignore it, but apparently the protesters include a bunch of hiking-and-dog lesbians and gay guys from the pup community, who thought it would be funny if they brought a bunch of dog whistles.”

“Dog whistles, officer?”

“Yes, sir. The really shrill ones that dog trainers use? They keep blowing them, and between that and the urine perimeter and the noise of the drums and bagpipes, the dogs are going haywire, sir. On top of that, the sides of the food trucks have been armored with old phonebooks and strips of old tires, and the cooks keep throwing meat scraps to reward the ones who ignore our orders.” 

If you see an opportunity to toss some glitter in the gears of the machine, do. 

If you see chaos starting, add to it (without adding violence.)

The machine of fascism relies on human cogs being able and willing to show up and do the stuff they’re told. If you mess with the functionality and authority of those cogs, make their day to day lives harder, they machine turns a LOT less smoothly. 

When I say to add chaos without violence, what I mean is, gum things up. 

Inconvenience the stormtroopers. 

Stand between the machine and somebody being crushed by it. 

Do you work in a lunchroom? Did that kid take a lunch without paying for it? No, they didn’t. If somebody asks questions, it would be a shame to play as dumb as they pay you like you are. 

Do you work in a chain grocery store? Did that person pocket food and leave the store quietly? No, they didn’t. If somebody asks questions, it would be a shame to play as dumb as they pay you like you are. 

See ICE or DOGE show up? It would be hilarious and very silly and also has been proven effective to stop and shriek and point at them and start shouting variations on, “oh my god somebody call the police, there’s masked terrorists with weapons over there!” It would be extra silly to tie up the phone lines calling to report those masked terrorists to the authorities. 

Work in a corporate or government building? It sure would be a shame if an open can of tuna found its way into the CEO/higher up’s air vents. If somebody asks questions, it would be a shame to play as dumb as they pay you like you are. 

Are you a SW whose clients include hypocritical politicos or neoNazis? Sure would be a shame if you accidentally recorded them and sent proof of their hypocrisy to their wives/mothers/adult offspring/entire workplace. 

Got an old junker? It’d be crazy to rip the plates off, file off the VIN, go park it in between protesters and aggressors, and leave it with the speakers blaring The Hanging Tree or Ke$ha or Bob Dylan or The Wiggles until the batteries give out—so definitely don’t do anything like that. 

You know what really messes with cameras, so you definitely shouldn’t utilize to shield yourself? Highly reflective surfaces, including mirrors and sparkly clothes and fans and parasols and glittery makeup! Also? Laser pointers. So definitely *don’t* use those near cameras or drones—unless you *want* to mess with them, which would be very silly and naughty and none of *my* business! 🙃

“This is ridiculous, officer! Food trucks? Bagpipes? Break through their lines and arrest these hooligans!”

“Well, sir, we’re working on it, but they seem to have made a perimeter barricade of boxes of expired soda, and a bunch of junkyard workers and construction folks just showed up to reinforce it with truckloads of old tires and cement. Children in cute costumes are climbing the tire stacks like jungle gyms and…well, they’re playing kazoos and waving banners with hearts on them and blowing bubbles at the riot police, sir.“ 

“BUBBLES, officer? Our forces are being undermined with BUBBLES?”

“Yes, sir. They seem to have several bubble machines, too, and are using dry ice to create fog as well, so our drones are having trouble getting clear images. Several people seem to have glued pieces of mirror to umbrellas, and it’s doing crazy things to the light and making it nearly impossible to get clear visuals. They also seem to have t-shirt cannons, and they’re using them to shoot down the drones with balled up Pride flags, as well as the flags of Palestine and Ukraine. From what little we CAN see, most of them are masked, or wearing respirators, and the ones who aren’t seem to have their painted faces, or are in full furry mascot suits. Footage and facial recognition are useless.” 

It is so important that we begin to push back in ways that are NOT “through the proper channels.”

The reason the folks in charge want us to use those is because they control the proper channels, and know that they don’t work unless they LET them work. 

Again, not suggesting anything violent, just beautifully weird and authentic and very, VERY annoying. 

We don’t have to *destroy* fascism like it’s an anime villain or video game boss. 

All we really have to do is *uproot* fascism’s hold, and all we need to do *that* is to be WEIRD and LOUD and UNGOVERNABLE and IN THE WAY.

We just have to be punk. Punk is ANYTHING that flips a bird to the fascist status quo in protest (without actively hurting anybody. Again, imaginary legal team, I would never suggest that.)

We must be like hobbits facing the spreading darkness of Mordor. 

We must be like Picts, the thorns in the side of Rome. 

We must be like the protagonists of the stories of freedom and revolution that we were raised on, who touch our hearts and unite us all.

Do you think Sailor Moon and Luke Skywalker and Katniss Everdeen and Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Alanna the Lioness and The Doctor would be proud of you? 

It’s time to make SURE they would be.

“Furry…mascot suits, officer? What are you even saying?”

“Well, sir, uhh…people in fursuits are setting up sound and light equipment in the center of the protesters, and beautiful young women in cosplay are carrying baskets and going around handing out earplugs and eye shields to protesters who request them. I—well, I think the drums and bagpipes were just a prelude, sir. They’ve tapped into the electrical grid, and they have ENORMOUS speakers painted with trans pride flags.” 

“HA! Showing their ridiculous colors now. Do they really think we’ll be afraid of furry DJ freaks?”

“Uh, well. Um…”

“SPIT IT OUT, officer!” 

“Well, sir…they’ve, uh, they’ve sent all the traffic lights in the city haywire somehow, sir. Cell phones aren’t working correctly, and local government websites are crashing. Apparently they’ve hacked into several government databases and replacing lists of targetable minorities and dissenters with the code for DOOM.” 

“What are you even TELLING me, officer?”

“I—well—some of the men are saying that the IT and finance furries have joined the resistance, sir.” 

“The IT and finance—furry, what—I—that is the TERRORIST REBELLION, officer! Not the RESISTANCE.” 

“Uh, right, sir. The terrorist rebellion of…costumed children blowing bubbles and people dressed as fluffy animals and superheroes playing music and dancing.” 

“They are DEFYING THE LAW, officer! They are a public nuisance, and a threat to our ability to maintain order!”

That’s the real threat to fascism, you see. 

Not violence or perfect strategy—chaos and humor. 

The atmosphere of nervous silence that fascism relies on is broken by laughter, by song, by dance, by silliness of any type. 

The idea fascism relies on, the thing that makes up its backbone, is the idea that its leaders know and control the Way Things Are Done. 

If we start doing unhinged madness instead of things they expect, we replace the order of fear with the chaos of absurdity. 

There is risk in even silly resistance. 

There will always be risk. 

I am talking about this largely because I am too immunocompromised and disabled to join in street action, so the only way I know to contribute is to speak out from home. Just doing *that* is a risk. 

All we can do about that is make it just as risky for them to try to silence us.

And the thing is? 

They’re human beings, they’re our sons and brothers and coworkers. 

And they’re as vulnerable as we are.

“I can’t disagree with that, sir. They’ve bribed away half my squad to join them already.” 

“WHAT? With WHAT?” 

“Well, sir, they have beautiful women and femboys in cosplay dancing and blowing kisses and holding up signs offering free hugs and free food if they hand over their sidearms and join them. And sir, the food? It uh. It smells REALLY good.” 

“WHAT did you say, officer?” 

“It’s mouthwatering, sir. The smell. It’s like all the ethnic minorities we’ve relegated to underpaid foodservice jobs have decided to abscond with supplies from work and come feed the resista—uh, rebellion.” 

“Just get in there and PUT THOSE DEVIANT FREAKS DOWN, officer!”

“Well, I would, sir, but…uh, well…my mom and my wife apparently joined them after I went to work this morning, and, uh, well…my kid is dressed as Captain America and, uh…blowing bubbles at me from the barricade. My wife’s last text to me said ‘Magneto was right’, whatever that means, and that I have two hours left to join her and the resistance, or she’s going to leave me for ‘someone brave enough to do the right thing instead of just doing their job.’ Sorry, sir; I’m out.”