Profane in the Membrane

Value-free centrist civility politics got us into this mess and I’m happy to curse and scream my way out of it

Back during the holiday season’s gauntlet of parties and events, a colleague buttonholed me at a buffet table with a question about my rather outspoken social media feed, namely: “Aren’t you afraid it’s costing you business?”

For those who may not remember, by day (and night, since I’m self-employed) I’m a real estate agent. That means my personal business and bottom line depends on a network of relationships and trust that I’ve built over the years.

Axiomatic among real estate agents is the idea that you must never, ever express controversial or political opinions. To do so will cost you the business of anyone you disagree with, the belief goes, so it’s better to keep your opinions to yourself and focus on what’s important: making bank. It’s the gold-blazer, Lexus SUV version of Michael Jordan’s infamous declaration against taking a political stand: “Republicans buy sneakers, too.”

Unsurprisingly, my belief about that axiom is Fuck that.

I started my career as a Realtor almost exactly ten years ago, just a few months before Trump launched his presidential campaign with a racist lie, and I watched as the nation declined to take his buffoonery and belligerence seriously. I’m glad my exit from the full-time journalism world coincided with that disaster — I can’t imagine having to cover this mentally diseased motherfucker day in and day out for a living. Since the man never shuts his lying, orange gob, it doesn’t matter what your beat is as a reporter, the mad wannabe king will insert himself into it.

Now, here we are in 2026, ten years after the United States collectively decided to stick a fork in an electric socket to see what happened, and this time Americans decided to see if sticking their dick in the socket might work out better.

That’s all my profane way of saying I don’t give a fuck if my opinions cost me business. It doesn’t take much of a search to find my deep, decades-long history of opinion and humor writing. I have no problem working with people of different political beliefs — hell, I enjoyed being able to debate and spar with a lot of people over the course of my life, at least until Trump came along and Republicans ruined their goddamn minds. And lord knows, I’ve worked with clients in real estate who have starkly different opinions and outlooks than I do. I’m here to help people conduct real estate transactions not run a political salon.

That said, I’ve dropped a landlord client when I realized they were racist and homophobic. That’s not money I want. And if I found myself dealing with a Trump supporter who looks around at the current state of the nation — marauding secret police snatching up brown people, those same police murdering a woman in broad daylight, and a president hell bent on acquiring Greenland because he didn’t get a medal — and says, “I like this,” I’ll fucking drop them, too. Because many of my past, present, and future clients have been and will be at risk under these racist, fascist policies.

This stance by myself and others causes a lot of confusion and butthurt for conservatives who have spent years claiming the right to refuse service to queers and sluts, then whine about how no one wants to play with them. Fuck ‘em. They made this world what it is right now and frankly they can suck on it.

Could I bring a little more tact and little less profanity to my public utterances? Sure, I could. But I won’t.

Here’s the thing: This level of pure anger I’m feeling and expressing is new to me. Again, my entire oeuvre is out there — I have a long history of using humor when dealing with political subjects, even life and death subjects. Looking back over my time with ACT-UP/DC and in AIDS activism in general, there was still a sense of joy and play in the face of terrible events that were killing us and hateful politicians who were dehumanizing us. Perhaps I’m too old and jaded, but finding joy in the madness around us is beyond me at the moment (though, bless the freaks and weirdos and other glorious human beings who’ve donned frog and pony costumes to bring a touch of the absurd to protests against fascist pricks).

There’s another mode of expression that I’m well trained and versed in: the slightly above it all, examining all sides, eminently reasonable, and ultimately morally vapid American newspaper op-ed voice. Print may be dead but the implacably centrist both-sides-ism of the commentary class will never die. I can and have used this voice in the past, in ways I’ve come to regret. I don’t believe that I ever had a level of importance in my little corner of the media world that would confer guilt on me for our present situation — but I can give you a list of the people who have had it and do bear responsibility for our media’s ongoing inability to take seriously the crumbling of the constitutional order.

So, I’ve lost my sense of humor when it comes to ICE brutalizing citizens and non-citizens alike. I’ve repudiated the Solomonic and soporific narrative that is the American political commentariat I once aspired to. What’s left?

Apparently, screaming “Fuck this shit, you fucking fascists!” on every social media channel and web page that I have.

I mean, it’s not graceful or poetic or timeless in its beauty. But it’s true and that counts for something.

Has it cost me business? Possibly. Do I care? Not one fucking bit. I have had a lot of privilege in my life when it comes to my work. I’ve spent less than a year working in truly corporate media in my early career and that was too much. Beyond that, I’ve had the luxury of working for people who were on the same page as me or, most often, working for myself. I also have a measure of personal safety and insulation from that potential loss of business — it would be immoral of me not to use my voice in whatever way I can given that privilege.

Have I lost other things? Oh, definitely. About a week after the killing of Charlie Kirk, I got summoned to a Realtor tribunal about my social media posts and whether I could continue in a leadership role. I was presented with a selection of Facebook posts I had made and told that questions had been raised about my use of profanity. That was pretty funny because not all the posts contained profanity but they sure as hell were all political. Ultimately, I was made to do a song and dance defending my posts — which I did because I stand behind what I write, profane or not — and they decided I could continue and I decided I wasn’t really interested in being in leadership anymore.

Star chambers will do that.

Still, in the grand scheme of the ongoing decline of the U. S. of A., that is some small fucking ball. Boo hoo for me, someone tried to slap my wrist and I just continued doing what I was doing. Though perhaps with a little more gusto because I can be a petty little bitch when I want to.

Meanwhile, ICE and Border Patrol are snatching people off the street because those people are brown or speak with an accent. They’re shooting, beating, and tear-gassing citizens who follow and document their abuses. They’re disappearing citizens and non-citizens alike. The Department of Homeland Security, that bastion of nativist blood-and-soil bullshit since its inception post-9/11, lies about their actions and the people they abduct with impunity, their only goal being to get overly credulous mainstream media and ass-kissing conservative media to repeat those lies in hopes they’ll take hold in the population.

All I have right now in the face of that is my voice. Perhaps, if things continue to decline, there’ll be other things I need to do, following in the footsteps of the Minnesotans who are demonstrating heroism by the minute. Until then, I can speak and write. Even if the only people who hear me are those who agree with me, we need to reinforce and support each other as we fight to bring our country back from the brink. The alternative is to keep my head down, my mouth clean, and my mind focused on the great capitalist goal of making money at the expense of everything and everyone else.

Fuck that.