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1/26/26

1/26/2026

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DURING DEMOCRACY’S DANGEROUS WINTER, INSPIRED CITIZENS AND STEADY TRUTH-TELLING

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A PROTEST for shooting victim Renee Good at Newport City Hall Jan. 8. PHOTO CREDIT: Brian Jones
THIS IS A TERRIBLE WINTER.
     But it is also an inspiring one.
     Much of the country today was digging itself out of a savage, massive weekend storm sponsored by natural forces at their cruelest, which predictably delivered misery and death.
     A parallel political storm also raged, as democracy fought for survival in a struggle that was not just legal and constitutional, but became a matter of literal life and death.
      These terrible natural and political winters coalesced in Minneapolis, where federally sanctioned thugs have been brutalizing residents for weeks under pretense of immigration enforcement.
     By now, we know that massive street protests not only require participants to resist Minnesota’s brutally cold temperatures, but risk arbitrary arrest and manhandling by pseudo police.
     And that protests have come at an even higher price – literally the lives of participants: Renee Good, a writer and poet, as she drove her car Jan. 7; and, last Saturday, Alex Pretti, a registered nurse, as he video recorded federal “agents.”

WHAT I AND MILLIONS OF AMERICANS
find inspiring is the patriotism Minneapolis citizens have demonstrated when confronted by the invasion of their city by rogue federal forces.
       They have carried out huge traditional protest marches; they’ve tracked and recorded federal thugs with smart phones, sounding shrill whistles to alert fellow residents of their malevolent presence.
     And by now, they know, and we know, that these Constitutionally protected activities can come at the cost of participants’ lives.
      As the Pretti killing played out, I was struck by something else just as inspired, the declaration by major news outlets that federal officials were lying about the circumstances of Pretti’s death.
      Federal officials labeled Pretti a domestic terrorist bent on assassinating federal agents. But throughout the weekend, the New York Times, the Associated Press and other outlets said that their analyses of video recordingS said otherwise
      "Videos on social media that were verified by The New York Times appear to contradict the Department of Homeland Security’s account of the fatal shooting of Alex Jeffrey Pretti, 37, by federal agents in Minneapolis on Saturday morning," the Times wrote

FOR THE FIRST YEAR  of the Trump second term, we have wondered  how the nation will respond to an unhinged autocratic president. Would citizens and the media be largely dormant?
     The answer this weekend is a firm “no.” 
     Protest and truth-telling are robust and astonishing this winter.
     Will they be enough? Can they be sustained?
      No one can tell. Success is never guaranteed.
     But the crusade for democracy is underway, at great price during a dark and dangerous season.  The bravery is as inspiring as it is essential.

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1/11/26

1/11/2026

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THIS LAND IS ...?

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NOTE: As the avalanche of terrible news keeps rolling  while Donald Trump remakes the planet, I keep thinking of Woody Guthrie's anthem to democracy. I'm sure I'm not the first to translate Guthrie's sacred lyrics. But it's hard to resist. BCJ
This Land Is Your Land
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie
This land Is My Land
Words and Discord by Donny Trump
 This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York island,
From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters; 
This land was made for you and me.

 This land is not your land, this land is my land.
From Venezuela to the Greenland island,
From the Cuban cane fields to the Gulf America waters;
This land was made not for you, but for me. 

As I was walking that ribbon of highway 
I saw above me that endless skyway; 
I saw below me that golden valley; 
This land was made for you and me.

As I was walking that East Wing demolition, I saw above me that endless ballroom
I saw below me that golden Oval Office,
I'm remaking this house just  for me.

 I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps 
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts; 
And all around me a voice was sounding;
This land was made for you and me.
 I’ve raved and rambled and I dispatched my jackboots to the snowy streets of Minneapolis;
And all around Renee Good, gunshots were sounding;
This land was made for me, not for her.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling, 
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling, 
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting: 
This land was made for you and me.

 When the sun came shining, and I was golfing,
And the Canadian wheat fields were waving
As Miller’s voice was chanting,
Every land was made for the U.S.A. and me.
 As I went walking I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." 
But on the other side it didn't say nothing.
That side was made for you and me.

 As I went walking I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said “No Trespassing.”
But on the other side it said: “Trump excepted.”
That side was made not for you, but for me.
 In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, 
By the relief office I seen my people; 
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking 
Is this land made for you and me?

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there knowing
This land was made just for me!
Nobody living can ever stop me, 
As I go walking that freedom highway; 
Nobody living can ever make me turn back 
This land was made for you and me. 
Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that autocratic highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back,
Until we all declare:
 “This land was made for you and me and not  just one man.”

2 Comments
    BRIAN C. JONES
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      I'VE BEEN a reporter and writer for 61 years, long  enough to have  learned that journalists don't know very much, although I've met some smart ones. 
      Mainly, what reporters know comes from asking other people questions and fretting about their answers.
       This blog is a successor to one inspired by our dog, Phoebe, who was smart, sweet and the antithesis of Donald Trump. She died Feb. 3, 2022, and I don't see getting over that very soon.
       Occasionally, I think about trying  to reach her via cell phone.


     

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