SERIFS, YAY OR NAY

During work today, I opened social media for a minute, only to be shown, yet again, dead children. Bombed in Gaza, bombed in Lebanon, by American-funded Israeli bombs, dropped on homes, dropped on tents, dropped on people.

This father cried, his raw grief captured in stills. He was holding his young daughter, she was comfy in his arms, he said. He set her down for a moment. The bomb came. Murdered her.

Earlier during the genocide of the Palestinian people, he’d lost his other daughter, and his wife. His girls, he said, reminded him of their mother.

Now he has no one.

And he’s not the only one. Entire names, entire bloodlines, entire families, have been wiped off the Palestinian/Gazan registry. Entire last names no longer exist. Do you understand this? Entire last names no longer exist. As of November 2024, over 1400 families no longer exist.

DO YOU ALL UNDERSTAND THIS? ENTIRE FAMILIES NO LONGER EXIST BECAUSE ISRAEL HAS BOMBED THEM OUT OF EXISTENCE.

Right after reading about this grieving father, I returned to work, or rather, returned as best I can. And one of the first work chat posts I see is, SERIFS, YAY OR NAY.

And all I could think is: I don’t give two shits about this.

Truly, what the actual f are we doing? Worrying about stupid fonts and Figma skills and “saving the company $3 billion.”

I’m so tired of this. This “business as usual” bullshit that is ruling America. This “the show must go on” fuckery that we are expected to continue to engage in for bread and a circus.

It’s disgusting.

And yet, we somehow all perform, like those little monkeys dancing for an organ grinder. And in doing so, our taxes pay for a different kind of organ grinders — the bombing, shredding, murdering type.

congratulations to us.