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Hand in Hand, Mano en Mano, Miguel Tejada-Flores

Hand in hand, Mano en mano, de main en main, Miguel Tejada-Flores, flickr

There was once a troll man, half troll half human, who was a very unhappy little man. He had grown up around giant trolls but he himself was small, and he had such small, small hands so that everyone commented, even as he got older. He felt so keenly his deficiencies that he vowed always to overpower others by demeaning them, just as he had been demeaned. He found, to his tortured crooked heart’s delight, his tactics succeeded with his marks, and they grew ever smaller, at least for a little while. They spluttered about, angry, defending themselves. He only laughed along with others whose spiritual deformity brought them out of the wordwork to participate in crimes.

The twisted thing took advantage of a generous and spirited country and demeaned everyone along with the support of bullies. The beautiful things about the country – its gorgeous invitations to those seeking shelter – were soiled by the meanness and depravity of a man simply too weak to admit how small his small hands made him feel. He studied the small hand men ways – their treatises and warfare, their bellicose suppression of their citizens, the way even with small hands, they could bring a shadow of darkness and pollution on a susceptible population made gullible by their weakened understanding of themselves and their inability to feel how great they were already.

He created an army of the dispossessed using the language of the dispossessed. He used this language to create an illusion that he understood, an illusion the dispossessed bought into, that if they only yelled and chanted for him and showed the toxic troll he was their friend he would bring them power. This is how he did it, what he said in his words to them: “Look at my hands, he said, they are small, I understand you, don’t I?” And those who had felt overlooked at last felt seen, though by a grand wizard but it was of no matter. It was a joyous occasion. So they all made tshirts printed with tiny hands clapping and wore them proudly.

When you hate yourself, you put people in cages, that’s what you do. And when you hate yourself you divide a free people off from each other and create a bifurcated nation: the purple people being a combo of red and blue –  two colors of the national flag –  are the shit while all others being yellow, red only, brown, and so on are just not quite as purple, just not quite up to being in the Tiny Hands Clapping Nation. In fact, the name had been changed from We Are All Free People Here to Tiny Hands Clapping For Purple People.

A few brown people however, women, in fact, considered by Troll Tiny Hands to be a threat to his plans to embolden hatred, reminded the world of the greatness of what had been the We Are All Free People Here Nation.

It still remains to be seen what will become of the imperiled free state, but three heroines stand larger than a tiny troll with tiny clapping hands and those who would clap alongside. In fact their voices were followed up by more hatred from the troll because unfortunately for trolls they just aren’t very creative. Or brave.