You know it’s the End Times when David Brooks—yes, that sentient oatmeal packet in a tie—starts shrieking from the opinion pages like Chicken Little got tenure at a think tank. His recent op-ed, “What’s Happening in America Isn’t Normal,” (https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/17/opinion/trump-harvard-law-firms.html) reads like the ghost of civility past realizing the house is on fire and maybe just maybe the polite brunch debates didn’t fix it.
Brooks, with all the revolutionary fervor of a disappointed high school principal, suggests we need a “comprehensive national civic uprising.” Which, coming from a man whose rebellion probably involves writing a strongly worded letter to the HOA, feels… cute.
But fine. Let’s take the words “civic uprising” and shake them until their teeth rattle. What are we talking here? Barricades and Molotovs? TikTok explainers and Etsy patches? Are we finally storming the institutions—or just sending them passive-aggressive emails?
Enter: Parkrose Permaculture. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSU8wW80xTo) While Brooks fans himself on the fainting couch of bipartisan nostalgia, Parkrose rolls up in muddy boots like, “Hey, maybe the revolution is just a well-maintained compost pile and a deeply informed school board election.” Which is somehow more radical than Brooks’ fever dream of bipartisan hug-fests.
And here’s where The Cult of Brighter Days shows up like a raccoon in a glitter vest, offering you a third option: principled absurdity. We’re not here to just survive this mess. We’re here to out-weird the apocalypse and build mutual aid networks that double as dinner parties and trauma support circles.
So here’s your guide to uprising when your soul is exhausted and your brain is permanently buffering:
1. Be Kind
Not the sanitized, HR-approved version. We’re talking “guard-the-drag-show, feed-your-neighbor, tell-your-racist-uncle-to-sit-down” kind. Revolutionary tenderness. The kind of kindness that breaks systems because it refuses to comply with cruelty.
2. If You Can’t Be Kind, Be Nice
Smile through your teeth. Practice polite defiance. Say “I respect your opinion” while metaphorically flipping the table. Civility is just camouflage for the emotionally stable saboteur.
3. If You Can’t Be Nice, Be Funny (But Don’t Punch Down, You Coward)
Satire is the people’s pepper spray. Aim it up the power ladder, not sideways. Mock oppression, not its victims. If you can’t tell the difference, log off and read a book, champ.
4. If You Can’t Be Funny, Shut Up
Seriously. No one needs your barely coherent rage thread at 3 a.m. Silence is not complicity when your frontal lobe has left the chat. Learn the ancient art of the graceful ghost.
5. If You Can’t Shut Up, Go Away
Take your burned-out, drama-addicted self on a silent retreat. Reboot in a yurt. Marinate in oat milk and boundaries. Whatever it takes to not vomit your emotional poison onto your allies.
Bonus Round: Roast the Centrists
Let’s take a moment to lovingly (but with fire) address the cardigan-clad, fence-sitting, lukewarm latte drinkers of American politics: the centrists. Ah yes, the holy worshippers at the altar of “compromise,” as if human rights are a potluck dish where everyone brings a little something and nobody leaves offended.
Centrism, that magical land where climate collapse is just a scheduling conflict and fascism is a networking opportunity. Where both the arsonist and the firefighter are invited to “share their perspectives” in the name of balance. It’s the ideology of wanting credit for showing up to a protest, but leaving early because it got “too loud.”
Here’s the truth: if your political compass always points directly between cruelty and compassion, you’re not a moderate—you’re a moral weather vane. Turning with the breeze, standing for nothing, and somehow still surprised when the storm arrives.
Compromise is great when we’re picking a restaurant. It’s not so cute when the menu includes “basic human dignity” and “open fascism” as equal options.
So yes, when we say “uprising,” we mean rising up against the tepid neutrality that treats oppression as just another debate topic. This is not a game of ideological tug-of-war—it’s a fire drill, and half the people are still asking if it’s “too political” to care.
Brooks wants a civics class uprising. Parkrose wants a perennials-and-permaculture uprising. We want a glitterbomb uprising where the most radical act is knowing your neighbor’s food allergies and showing up anyway.
This isn’t the French Revolution. It’s the Friendship Revolution. It’s whisper networks, banned book clubs, trauma-trained de-escalation teams. It’s throwing a block party that outlasts the authoritarian boot. It’s sending your representatives a glitter bomb with the words “Wake The FUCK UP!” (Reps: https://www.usa.gov/elected-officials Glitter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PY63ggdU_-o)
So when you hear “civic uprising,” don’t picture a riot.
Picture a casserole with a side of legislation.
Picture a librarian giving censorship the middle finger.
Picture a community saying, “We keep us safe”—and meaning it.
And if you’re doing that? Welcome to the resistance, friend. Your glitter vest is in the mail.
