The Soapbox doesn’t claim answers.
It is a matchstick. Strike it. Watch it burn.
Let it light your questions.
Let it carry into your officials’ offices.
Let it spark between neighbors.
Let it glow in conversations with your friends.
Amplify The Silenced
Courage, Not Comfort
Autonomy Before Authority
Bullshit Deserves To Burn
I’m not here to hand down polished answers. I’m here to pull threads, flip things over, and refuse to pretend the unraveling is normal.
The Soapbox is my container for curiosity, for rants, questions, and connections that don’t fit neatly anywhere else. Sometimes the pieces make sense, sometimes they don’t, but they always spark something.
I call myself the curator because I gather scraps, outrage, humor, half-formed ideas, stubborn hope. I stitch them together and put them out loud. Not because I’m right, but because silence is worse.
You don’t have to agree. That’s not the point. The point is to notice the cracks, to ask the questions, to yell back if you feel like it.
Welcome to the Soapbox. Grab the crate, raise your voice, and don’t whisper when you mean to shout.
I don’t know about you, but every time a cop pulls up behind me, even when I’m doing absolutely nothing wrong, my whole body floods with panic. Suddenly I’m sweating, are my hands on 10 & 2, did I just run over a pedestrian, was a planted bomb in the boot of my car that I somehow missed. That’s not safety.
Are you the kind of person who warns a child the oven is hot, then lets them touch it to learn the lesson? And when they burn themselves, you act shocked? That’s what I’m seeing right now in the aftermath of a very public assassination.
We don’t live in an information age. We live in a manipulation age. And our greatest weakness isn’t gullibility — it’s fatigue. Platforms don’t need to fool us. They just need to keep us too tired to care whether we’re fooled or not.
A local police department posted an update online this week that a man in possession of child sexual abuse material had been arrested. They listed his name. They listed his street. But they didn’t show his face. And they turned the comments off.
We like to believe revolution is just a matter of will. Of fire. Of people suddenly waking up and pouring into the streets to say, “No more.”
Remember when “the future” meant hoverboards, jetpacks, and Rosie the Robot?Yeah. Instead we got:– Alexa, eavesdropping on your 2 a.m. breakdown.– Ring doorbells that narc harder than a D.A.R.E. officer.– Smart fridges that fat-shame you while tracking your groceries.
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