Author’s note: I work at the intersection of law and technology and information systems. This post is not about those, but it also is. Because what is happening in the United States right now is a direct failure of those systems and the people working in them. So if you do not want to hear about “politics” in a professional setting, your options for politely ignoring the outside world - as many have done in the past - is rapidly decreasing. But it’s definitely not in this newsletter.
In my corner of social media, we have a recurring joke/coping mechanism, the central conceit of which is that we play along with the idea that we’re in a TV show and we comment on the choices the writers are making. For example:
Or
and
My latest contribution is along the lines of “let me understand this…the South is in the middle of an ice storm while the north is dealing with ICE? And they murdered people named Pretti and Good? The writers:
To be clear, I am horrified at what’s happening here. This is all straight up gallows humor coping.
I’ve been waiting for a breaking point where people stop pretending that everything is okay for over a year now. Is the occupation of Minneapolis finally it? Tear gas and pepper spray are being indiscriminately deployed into peaceful gatherings and neighborhoods. Children kidnapped and trafficked to concentration camps. Deadly force used on people who pose no immediate threat.
Is this America?
Yep.
But a lot of people have been able to ignore that inconvenient fact thanks to their socio-economic position in society and the fact that there’s entire media and educational ecosystems designed to maintain an idealized vision. I go back and forth at how mad/frustrated I get with people who have ignored reality up to this point. One of the reasons that social media has been so disruptive is that it has allowed voices and experiences that traditionally were not amplified (if not actively suppressed) find distribution channels. So it is very possible to start to educate yourself on the things you missed learning about. But post 2013 or when the web went from self curated RSS to algorithms controlled by dudes you wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving your drink uncovered around, it’s harder to see outside of your bubble and discover your unknowns.
I don’t think the bubble can keep out reality too much longer. And one thing that I’ve been wondering, especially in recent days is…What happens when you can’t ignore reality anymore and you realize that much of what you’ve been led to believe is a total lie? Both individually and collectively? What is that going to look like?
For example…my entire life I’ve been told that the GOP is the party of limited government, of states rights, of low taxes, of free speech, and the right to bear arms. And as I write this, GOP operatives are hitting the Sunday morning talk shows to explain that non-violent protestors deserve to receive violence, that it’s not okay to have a firearm, that due process is not needed, and so on and so on. Like I always knew they were full of shit but man…the way they are outright lying about things we have video evidence of from three angles is still breathtaking. So how are normies handling this wake up?
(Just for clarification for non-Americans….this is literally the type of thing that is considered okay previously by people now saying that Alex Pretti shouldn’t have had a holstered handgun. Like, what if he was planning to do a Kyle Rittenhouse? Then what?)
As I do, I started poking around and looking for terms related to cognitive dissonance or what happens when that shatters or, because I’m me, if there’s anything from mythology, religion, or art to reference. And I came across the term “Janus-faced”, named for the Roman god Janus, and the god for whom the month of January is named.
Let’s have Chatty G summarize my morning wandering around the Internet:
Janus is a Roman god of thresholds: doors, gates, beginnings, endings, and moments of transition. Unlike the more dramatic gods of myth, Janus doesn’t intervene or judge; he presides. He is traditionally shown with two faces, looking in opposite directions, because his role is to see what lies behind and what lies ahead at the same time. In Roman life, doors mattered—literal doors, but also symbolic ones—and Janus was understood as the guardian of passage itself. Nothing began without passing through his domain first.
Over time, Janus’s image shifted. The term “Janus-faced” entered later language as a way to describe someone who presents two sides, often implying hypocrisy or deceit. This modern usage flattens the older meaning. In Roman thought, Janus’s doubleness was not about lying or concealment, but orientation—holding two perspectives at once so movement could occur without confusion. The insult version of “Janus-faced” tells us more about modern discomfort with ambiguity than it does about the god himself.
January takes its name from Janus because it sits at the door of the year. It looks backward toward what has ended and forward toward what has not yet taken shape. In Ovid’s Fasti, Janus explains that he comes first not because he is supreme, but because beginnings require orientation. January inherits that function: it is not a month of resolution so much as a month of positioning.
Seen this way, January is less about fresh starts and more about transition. It is a liminal period, marked by reflection, uncertainty, and the uneasy coexistence of past and future. Like Janus himself, January asks us to stand at the threshold without rushing to resolve what we see—acknowledging what has been, while remaining attentive to what is still forming.
GODDAMN. THE WRITERS GOT ME WITH THAT ONE.
When I was also searching around for inspiration, I came across this Ranier Maria Rilke quote:
“And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious, and great things.”
Rilke is basically saying: let’s stop treating the new year like a blank notebook or a motivational slogan. When he talks about a “long year,” he means one that’s going to be demanding, full of things we haven’t encountered before and work we can’t shortcut with old answers. The year will make claims on us whether we like it or not. And when he says we should learn to take it “without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow,” he’s warning against rushing, numbing out, or pretending the year is simpler than it is. The year will give us meaning, insight, maybe even growth. But only if we’re willing to meet it seriously, pay attention, and not drop the hard parts just because they’re uncomfortable.
That’s the vibe.
We’re coming up on the 250th anniversary of The Declaration of Independence. Have you ever read it? I mean, really read it and not just the first line of the second paragraph? Go on, for the time being the National Archives has the text. After Jefferson’s Enlightenment stuff - and writing about god given rights to liberty and equality when you own slaves is A CHOICE - they list out all the terrible things the Mad King is doing. I’ll be damned if at least 2/3 aren’t currently happening now with our own Mad King.
The Writers of America, man…they went crazy with that one.
And I haven’t even touched on how the United States’ position (economically, politically) in the world is being torched.
And I interact with a LOT of non-Americans in my professional life and it’s hard to resist the urge to not start every call with “I’M ONE OF THE GOOD ONES AND CAN I MAYBE SLEEP ON YOUR COUCH?”
There are so many unsustainable things happening right now. It feel very paralyzing because when the reality cracks, it’s going to crack wide. And when that happens…I don’t know what that’s going to look like.
No one knows who actually said it but “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” is very true. So get ready to do something. If you haven’t already started, that is. Because there’s lots of people already putting their lives and livelihoods on the line. (And people that assume they are paid protestors say more about their own ability to have their morality bought and sold than anything.) The least you can do is not look away.
Be well,
Sarah
