No Fat Soldiers, No Grandsons, No Shame.

Christine Merser, June 12, 2025

I saw Rand Paul interviewed last night, where he came out to discuss with the reporter that he was uninvited to the White House picnic. I kept watching incredulously as he was describing how, to his knowledge, he was the only senator or Congress person in the history of the world who’s ever not been invited to a White House picnic, or Easter egg roll, or whatever, where people and their families are invited to the White House, which, by the way, belongs to the people, not to Donald Trump.

Yes, Donald Trump actually “uninvited” a United States senator to a White House picnic. As if we’re on a playground in elementary school where the mean kids are plotting the demise of somebody who stood up to them.

He then went on to say that he had been attacked on Twitter in an incredibly aggressive and magnified way, and when his staff reached out to some of the people, it turns out they were hired by the White House to attack him on Twitter.

It was nice to see someone standing up to him in front of the press. Loud and clear.

Now we know that Donald Trump was helped to the first election by Facebook staff to manipulate social media to his benefit, and we know because it’s been confirmed that they’ve actually hired people to attend the parade for him this weekend because he was afraid that he was going to have empty bleachers, as he has had in both inaugurations. Can you imagine? Your parents hiring people to come to your birthday party?

And this is who you people elected to the United States presidency? And you expect me to treat you with respect? Or as my equal?

And now the Proud Boys are going to dress up as if they were one of us and create havoc so that Donald Trump can send in Marines and the Army so that we will no longer be able to walk the streets freely, able to express ourselves? Do you think that’s going to make us not show up?

And, then Gavin Newsom standing up two nights ago and calmly but quietly taking down that man taunting him, without fear was a sight to behold. Oh happy happy day. What he said. Surefooted. Defiant.

And Donald Trump walked a red carpet last night? I can’t remember when he was last on a red carpet. But here’s the thing. It’s who was on the red carpet with him. That’s the problem for him. You see, he wants to be walking the red carpet with you and me. He wants to be walking the red carpet with the intellectual liberals who he has always coveted, but who have always shunned him. They didn’t shun him because they go around shunning people. They shunned him because he’s repulsive. He’s incapable of looking at anything other than himself or having any knowledge outside his own impulsive needs. He hasn’t been shunned by informed Americans because we are self-centered. He was booed when he walked in, and what was truly spectacular were the empty seats. Note to staff, fill the seats next time?

You see these men in the picture below? These are not the men he covets, which is why he is so unhappy.

And, how does he retaliate? He tells a United States senator who says he is wrong with his polities, “You can’t come to a picnic.”

And Rand Paul said that his grandson won’t be able to be there. Well, I’m sorry for that Rand, but your grandson is not who I am thinking about right now.

All I think about now are the children whose parents aren’t coming home. Some who saw their parents being abducted by masked men who man handled them. Or the video of the little boy in court representing himself. And how old was he? Three years old. The judge asked him if he knew what a lawyer was, and he said no. He shook his head no while his little feet were dangling from the chair in a fucking courtroom of the United States of America. He didn’t look particularly scared. I was glad for that.

So Trump will have his parade on Saturday. But millions of the people he wants to have attend will show up to protest across the country, not at his parade. And he has threatened that anybody who protests in Washington, D.C. will be met with force. By the way, you’re allowed to protest on the streets of America. I’m pretty sure that his threat to Americans means he should be arrested, but we’ll just leave that aside for now. And when his Proud Boys show up to pretend that their behavior is ours, which it never would be because we are far superior to any of them, we will sit down on the pavement, and they will be standing there exposed for who they are. And it may or may not work. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we never go away. It matters that we never stop trying. It matters that every night and every morning that man wakes up and worries about what we’re going to do next.

It took us a little while, but we’re getting better. Every day we’re getting better. And every day that a Paul Rand stands up and has a conversation like that, or every day that a Newsom gets in front of the microphone and brings just a few more people to our side of the table, we are just this much closer to success.

So have your picnic and your parade Mister President. Happy Birthday.

Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention. Your directive that there be no fat people marching, and that they interview every single soldier to make sure that he does truly adore you. Can you imagine? So have your parade with only thin, adoring people marching. I don’t think I’ll mind so much. Because I’ll know, having had dinner with you a time or two in the ’80s, that inside you won’t be feeling happy. You won’t be feeling adored. Because when your mother has to pay people to come to your birthday party, the child in you will always know that no one likes you, and that you are not worthy.

I no longer hate you. I did for awhile. Then I watched a video of MLK, who said to always carry your dignity in you. So, I’m over that. As of yesterday, I no longer hate you.

I just want this feeling of pain, when I see all the people you are crushing, to go away. You’re not crushing me or most of the people I know, but all the people who don’t have what you have or I have or my friends have, the people who came here to work their asses off to try to give something to their children. I want their pain to go away.

I don’t have the energy to hate you anymore. I have the energy to try to help them. That energy is growing by the hour, by the day. The best way I can. Never by stooping to your level. Always rising to my own.

And never, ever, ever giving up.