The Church of Social Justice

Spring has bloomed but my winter blues prevail overhead.

I feel a loss of comradery with my fellow patrons. I am an outcast in my own regards. I want to be one with my peers. I am tired of being labeled a white supremacist.

I plead to a higher being: show me the light. Indoctrinate me.

“You have summoned us.”

“And who do I speak to?”

“We are the ministering spirits of social justice. You shall refer to us as either they/them. We have come to show you the righteous path at once.”

“To who do you serve?”

“Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

 

“You know – on second thought, can you take me back to 1938?”

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