Thomas Cowperthwait Eakins: Miss Alice Kurtz (1903)

"Will we persist with our damning decency even then?"

From A Threatened Portland, Oregon, On The Morning It Appeared Our Incumbent Relented Before His Assault Could Begin, Realizing He Couldn’t Possibly Win.

The ICE agents look like children engaged in pretend war games. Armed with ridiculous-looking paintball weapons loaded with pepperball ammo and wearing silly face coverings, they appear anything but threatening. They scream without provocation, thereby disclosing just how terrified they must feel inside. Their opponents bring Persistence to the game rather than pretend weapons. They take their licks as administered by the undisciplined troops. They curse but rarely really resist. They go flaccid when assaulted, rendering their attacker powerless to influence. They persist instead. It slowly becomes evident that the scare tactics aren’t working; the protesters seem unaffected by the vague threats and meaningless curses, which fail to carry much evidence of underlying malice. This is performance, mugging for unseen cameras. Nobody is willing to suspend their disbelief, not a freshly installed officer or a vastly more experienced protester. Everyone knows who wins these kinds of confrontations.

The ICE agents might just as well be punching pillows for all the difference they’re making on the peaceful and royally pissed-off citizens. Decency assaulted knows no limits. It cannot be successfully intimidated. It might be jailed, but it will wound the jailer much more than the prisoner. The poor devils who have to travel home incognito lest their neighbors discover the role they’re playing seem less free than the least of their incarcerated counterparts. What’s with the masks? Even lies go bald-faced, but not these officers of lawlessness. They must mask, I suspect, to preserve their delicate self-esteem. They know what they’re doing is wrong, and not just misdemeanor-quality error. They intend to inflict terror, but can’t quite manage to succeed when their sworn enemy turns out to be Decency.

They stand up to stand down. They cruise around looking for situations in which they might take mean advantage. They hold no strategic intentions. They specialize in meaningless disruption. They wreak havoc while the meek quietly inherit the world they’re far too distracted to defend. They undermine their own position to punish the innocent. Decency remains relentless. It cannot ultimately be resisted. It patiently persists, belligerent. It accepts the punishments unjustly inflicted, yet still remains Decent. Nothing’s likely to turn it. Futility becomes the purpose of inflicting punishment. The fact that it doesn’t work only deepens each officer’s despair. There never was going to be any there anywhere in there, anyway.

The enemy is always an unwitting ally. Why might not matter. Their mistake might be your blessing. Their apparent successes sow seeds of imminent losses. The conflict never ends until it does. Success rarely appears as imagined. It often arises from apparent defeat, when conventional measures fail to reveal underlying significance. The present insults could kill us, but when they don’t, they ultimately render us ever less vulnerable. Our Persistence in the face of even the most obvious losses might ultimately prove to have been critically significant. Our shameful opponents will one day require more mercy than they ever imagined they’d need. It will only be Decent to offer them whatever they require in homage to the times when we were hungry and they denied us sustenance, and we were cold and they turned up the air conditioning, and when we were exhausted and they gave us no rest. Will we persist with our damning decency even then?

The Portland mist persists despite intruders. It seems relentless, heartless, and desperately Decent. It moistens arid perspectives. It renders shoes soggy. It begs for a decent cup of coffee and a cozy chair. It holds its history prominently. It was always different here, which’s what makes it the same, despite continual changes. Conqueror’s armor quickly rusts. The Gods shed more than our fair share of grace on us. We never expected you to understand or even appreciate us. We cannot be successfully second-guessed. Our Persistence was always our Decency in deepest disguise. Fuck off!

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Decency, #PureSchmaltz