This Hateful Ham

"Woe to that land that's governed by a child." (Richard III)

“Hey, do you like islands?”

There’s a place down the street called The Hate Garage — I guess it could be called The Hate House but I haven’t seen much beyond the garage — that used to activate something in me every time I drove by.

When the garage door was open, the scene was a quick blur of Wait, did I see that right?? If you slowed down to get a better look, which we always did, there were professionally-made banners hung from one side to the other [FUCK JOE BIDEN][FUCK DEMOCRATS] and a giant Donald Trump cardboard cutout giving two middle fingers to everyone in the neighborhood.

Once I rounded the corner and saw the flags bursting from this house, I’d get angry.

These fucking people.

Jesus Christ.

How many flags does one need to announce they’re an asshole?

+gives Trump two middle fingers back+

And what the fuck with these garbage cans

The garbage cans were my favorite part of this conservative theater: Two green bins, equal in size, with neon orange writing on the front.

Bin 1: XX

Bin 2: XY

Across both bins: ONLY 2 GENDERS

I joked about ordering a tiny yard waste bin, writing NB in neon orange lettering on the front, and dropping it between the two garbage cans — so it would look like they’d had a non-binary baby — but The Hate Garage people didn’t seem like they had a sense of humor. They seemed serious, at least about their brand, which was being the most outwardly hateful house on an otherwise fairly normal block.

The guy across the street from them tried putting up a show with two flags — State of Texas and Back the Blue — but that was child’s play compared to the rotating mix of Hate Garage flags:

United States of America.

United States of America, upside down.

Back the Blue.

Christian National.

Confederate.

Pine Tree.

Don’t Tread On Me.

One night I drove past and saw the lights on in what looked like a den, and the entire wall was one eeeenormous American flag. Consistent and thematic, I thought. They are definitely in it to win it.

The driveway was too small for their vehicles — the type of oversized trucks that suggested A Real Man & Probably His Guns Live Here — complete with fishing boat and trailers that took up all the shared parking and sidewalk space. They could have used the garage but remember, that was occupied by a far greater mission: telling then-President Biden to get fucked.

On a scale of 1 to 100, hanging a plastic banner inside your garage that essentially says “I DON’T LIKE YOU” to an old man you don’t know who will never actually see it is pretty low on the impact scale (let’s say a 10 since it does affect the neighbors) and even lower on the Cool Political Shit People Do scale (basically a zero).

Who was all this for?

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Years went by, and the more I drove past this house, the more questions I had. Curiosity replaced the anger without changing my politics; I’d lost the energy for hyper-vigilant anger since realizing it only ever affected me. The house didn’t change much but I saw it from a different angle. I imagined what this man must feel like when he turned the corner in his truck and saw the aggressive, overstuffed display of his own steadfast opinions. Proud of the messaging; maybe safe; maybe even proud?

Instead of just an asshole, what I now saw was someone very easily triggered — really the most triggered house on the block. Someone so sensitive, so in his feels that he had to put on this show of visual strength and alert the whole neighborhood.

HEY YALL, I’M SENSITIVE, shouted a parade’s worth of flags.

I ONLY PROCESS FEELINGS THROUGH ALL CAPS, screamed the signs.

I DON’T LIKE CHANGE, cried the garbage cans.

I often wondered what a conversation between me and the owner might look like.

Me, sarcastic: Nice flags.

Dude, calling ICE: Thank you.

On days I didn’t want to experience The Hate Garage, I just drove around. It was really that simple. Pretty soon, I stopped going out of my way and, much like a haunted house, it became a distant place that we sometimes drove past and sometimes told stories about.

Then Donald Trump was voted in as President for a second time [sad trombone].

The effect this had on The Hate Garage was swift and shocking. When your brand is “that hateful house down the street,” undoing that in a week will leave the whole neighborhood shook.

The day after the election was called, all the hateful items were gone — no cardboard cutout, no orange middle fingers, no fuck-you banners — it was just a boring garage with a workbench and old crap, like most garages. Only two flags were left: the American flag and Christian Nationalist flag. Even these seemed to lose their bite without a bunch of flag friends competing for hateful attention. Then someone planted a bunch of wildflowers in the front bed and added Home Goods decor on the path to their front door.

I say this without joking: Those flowers absolutely broke my brain.

The garbage cans remained the same, but without the rest, it just made me wonder about their origin story. What conversation did the Hate Garage dude have, what TV show or podcast was he watching that made him angry enough to spring into action?

It’s time people learned about gender from the real expert, me, and obviously our garbage cans.

Did he already know what kind of pen/paint works best on a garbage can, or did he have to look it up? Did he get in his truck and head to Hobby Lobby for the right tool? Did he ask for help at the store, like “Hi, I’d like to write a very important message on my garbage cans, could you point me to the Neighborhood Political Discourse aisle”?

I thought of this man, squatting down, carefully writing out “XX” and “XY” in special orange paint. I tried imagining him in different states of being while completing this task.

Angry: This godless neighborhood is gonna freaking learn.

Helpful: People seem confused, I’m glad to have the opportunity to teach them something so important.

Calm: “[Obvious Bible quote]”.

Disbelief: How are we the only ones in our neighborhood to think of this?!!

Delight: *giggling* Can’t wait to see the garbage man’s reaction.

Delulu: Garbage cans are the new megaphone, everybody knows that.

Wildflowers. That’s what I see when I drive past the house now, something I actually enjoy. Are the people inside so confident in 47 that they no longer need to worry about America? Did Donald Trump’s presidency heal them in some way, so much they planted flowers and took down the majority of their flags? This epic trust fall seems wild to me, but I’ve seen it every election, no matter who wins.

“Victory! Time to check out, nothing more to do here! Now we can relax.”

I remember one particular house in West Seattle after the death of George Floyd. As signs went up — the most popular being “In this house, we believe” — there was one house that committed much of their front windows to the Black Lives Matter message. Instead of the traditional sign, they had gone a step further: Each letter filled up an entire piece of computer paper — 16 pieces total — and they had pasted the giant message across their windows.

When the sign went up, I remember thinking, “What’s the criteria for taking this down? How long will Black lives matter to them?” Years went by, and the paper changed colors a bit from light exposure. Every time I drove by, I’d clock it — like, Hey sign! You’re still there! They want people to know!

All of it came down the day after Biden won the 2021 election.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, front windows must be something similar to a house. How many people lived there? What age(s) were they? It was hard imagining children throwing a birthday party with that as a backdrop. I wondered if the lighting had been drastically altered with so much of the windows covered; if the people felt proud every time they walked past it; or if they gradually forgot it was there like the old family photos and outdated art hung up decades ago.

When the sign went up, was there a conversation about its size? Did they run out of ink?? Did they agree that a “blue” president being sworn in was the only acceptable reason for taking it down? Were they that confident in Joe Biden’s term or were they just tired of having their view to the garden obstructed by performative bullshit? Was it performative bullshit? I didn’t really know.

What I know now:

-That sign coming down made me angrier than all the flags and bumperstickers at The Hate Garage house. It felt like the liberal, temporary version of “Victory! Time to check out, nothing more to do here! Now we can relax.”

-No matter what the decor, I don’t actually know what people believe in by their signs and hateful garages. I only know how I interpret the signs, which is usually through a (let’s be real) lightly-condescending farther-than-left progressive lens that seeks to dismantle Empire in all its forms, be it patriarchy or capitalism.

-I don’t even know if that’s what I believe in because I’ve moved further left as America and its government goes extremist-right, almost as a counterbalance. It’s not that I don’t trust my gut or don’t stand behind progressive ideals, but I live in a country that’s determined to keep one political party disguised as two that both serve the ruling class before all others.

So it feels kind of pointless to have ideals when it comes to America the Experiment. Red wins, half the country gets to play, the rest are on defense. Blue wins, half the country gets to play, the rest are on offense. Nothing gets done. We argue over every single thing, distracted, while the 1% make money off of it, whether that be podcasts, advertising, defense contracts or genocide.

I’ve always hated bumperstickers, from the day I saw my first “Baby On Board” sign to yesterday, when I saw someone’s COEXIST sticker in their car window. Calvin of Calvin & Hobbes peeing on something seems to be reserved for oversized trucks, whereas rainbows, Save the Somethings, and science-loving messages seem to cover a lot of old Volvos. No matter what the messaging, I always wondered why we chose our cars — a typically expensive investment — to advertise our values to the world.

Now we just re-post memes and headlines, the modern day bumpersticker, over and over on multiple platforms to the same people posting the same thing, every day while billionaires and their cash cows grow fatter and meaner. I know because I do this, too, and it’s exhausting.

My current bumperstickers would look like this:

WAR IS FOR CAPITALISTS WHO CAN’T COMMUNICATE

HOARDING WEALTH IS NOT THE FLEX YOU THINK IT IS

WOMEN UPHOLD THIS PLANET IN WAYS MEN CAN’T EVEN CONCEIVE

COMMUNITY IS EVERYTHING, DEATH TO EMPIRE

I STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE, YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLES

GARBAGE CANS ARE FOR GARBAGE