You’re Right When You Say All Lives Matter

Just like I’m right when I say all children matter. Did your little Tygerlili get straight A’s and you’re posting it all over your social media expecting me to give a crap? Or did that handsome boy of yours, Acksel Jr., run in the winning touchdown for his high school football team so now we all have to watch the video footage and clap like seals to make you feel worthy?

Well that’s great and all, but what about the kid who stayed up playing Bloodbath 4 until 3 a.m. and just spilled a Big Gulp sized Mountain Dew in the A/C air vent of his mom’s brand new car? He matters too. He sopped it up with some spare Cheeto crumbs and now, on a hot summer day, that car smells like death and moldy Pop Tarts. But shouldn’t we applaud his ingenuity? Every child’s accomplishment matters.

Are you wearing a pink ribbon in memory of your nana who died from breast cancer? Do you wear blue for colon cancer and red for heart disease and purple for lupus? Do you paint your pumpkin teal every Halloween for those poor kids with food allergies? Well, I’m sorry but we don’t see color here. Every disease matters.

Sure, heart disease kills nearly a million Americans every single year, but the common cold matters too, don’t you think? It only makes sense that all scientific focus and funding be dispersed equally among all the diseases. Every disease is important. Wouldn’t you agree? I’m sure your nana would.

Better take that “Best Husband Ever” mug away from your beloved because all husbands matter. Yeah, your husband is kind, handsome, hard working, benevolent. But Chad over there, in the wife beater, chewing on a Slim Jim and drinking Mad Dog straight from the bottle, we don’t want to leave him out. He’s a husband too. No husband is more important than another.

As well, every sacrifice matters. My uncle Paul gave his very life in World War II for the freedoms we Americans enjoy every single day, and one time I had to take my kid to a birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese. I can’t believe I even have to say this because it seems so obvious, but my sacrifice is important too. Where is my Purple Heart? Not all heroes wear capes, some wear sensible shoes and resting bitch face.

Does eating shellfish cause your esophagus to constrict within seconds of consumption? Man, that must suck, but don’t all eaters matter? It’s not my fault that you were born the way you were. Why should the restaurant I eat at waste it’s time, money, kitchen space, and resources to your problems? If not for your needs, I could live in a world where every single meal that’s pumped out of every single restaurant kitchen could be rubbed with the carcasses of hundreds of shrimp.

If you’re asking yourself why, maybe you should stop being so selfish and start asking yourself why the hell not. Sure, there’s a chance you might die if you eat wheat, but I know for damn sure I will die if I can’t get every single thing I order covered in panko and deep fried. My needs matter too.

I’m glad we could see eye to eye on this and I urge you to hold strong to your belief that every single one of us is exactly the same and requires exactly the same needs at exactly the same time no matter what, no exceptions allowed. Dig in those heels, despite what common sense and black people tell you. Hold firm. Don’t ever change your mind. Don’t you do it!

For you are the true hero, fighting the fight that some say doesn’t even exist. Sure, you’ve never suffered one single consequence for the color or your skin. You’ve never been passed up for housing or jobs because of your whiteness. The last time you were pulled over with bad tags and a half a joint in the center console you were let go with a warning. But still, look at you hanging onto the notion that your life is in need of special attention. Wow. That’s… special. You’re really, really… special.

Good for you, Karen. Good for you.