On the day after the presidential election, I took my American flag down and hoisted it up again ... upside down. It's been flying that way ever since.
Yesterday, a jogger decked out in Under Armour everything came slogging by and yelled at me while I was working in the yard. "It's over," he said. "Put your flag up right." "It ain't over till I say it's over," I replied. "And it's nowhere near over."
A flag flying upside down is a symbol of grave danger. I see no sign that the US is in any less danger today than we were five months ago. If anything, we are in more danger because people like my neighborhood jogger are sliding into a kind of quiet acceptance of the atrocity that currently occupied the White House. My protest may not be especially effective, but it's what I can do right now.
Fuck you, Trump.