I am a communist. The other.  I understand what I see is radically different from what you see is true. What is apology. What are reparations. I got pinned to the wall in an Esquire interview. Making the claim I was cravenly indifferent. I apologized. I will be sorry to my grave. I, too, want new public policy. You peer into my heart and tell the world that my apologies are toxic. How do you know that. Outside, I hear cowboys and Indians where cultural change is an abstraction. The cowboys become the Indian and Indians become cowboys. Then, genocide. I have asked children many times why they Pretend To Be from one culture, switching affiliations quickly. “We want to win.” Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, the backbone of my story, attempted to portray white culture as indifferent. Privileged children are their parent’s indifference. Cancel Culture is shunning. Kids. Swords. Signs. Weapons. Games in my front yard. I sit on the porch at the massive killing on the lawn now standing up and jumping into hide and seek. You become the Other and it, too, is toxic. Appropriation of existing cultural status quos, has the British wanting to be Greece. Antiquities. You’re an Indian, and I am a cowboy are roles children inhabit. Not indifferently. Why are you here. On the planet. It’s economics 101. Capitalism rocks. Rolls. In cruelty. Infanticide is the denial of nutrition. Children are allowed a SNAP meal for $1.39 per meal. Slow slaughter Again. We are fundamentally complicit. Guilty as charged.