It’s what we have. It’s what we create from “to survive.” The walls of the suburban conservative religious worldview in which I was raised were paper-thin, the surface of a shadow-play of stick figures (Father, Rabbi, Policeman) performing the same old, same old drama of power. Rendering something worthless—tearing something down—is powerful. It’s a weapon of power. We know it in our bodies. It’s time to pull out the scalpel and turn it around. Slash vents in the paper walls of this master’s house of heteropatriarchal colonialist mass hallucination that claims to be our reality. Give vent to
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