The Stochastic Shit Weasel: Are Americans Still Free?
By Michael Kelman Portney
In a Country That Claims to Be Free, When Does Criticism Become a Crime?
There’s a point in every empire’s decline where words become weapons—and the state starts treating them like bombs.
We’re there.
Right now, the Marines are in Los Angeles. Trump’s Department of Homeland Security is threatening to arrest people for wearing masks—not to rob stores, but to protest the regime. And online? You can feel it in the air: a tightening. A hesitation. A sense that the wrong tweet could ruin your life.
So here’s the question screaming in the back of every honest American’s mind:
What the fuck am I still allowed to say?
💣 We Were Warned, But We Laughed
They said fascism would come wrapped in a flag and carrying a Bible. They forgot to mention it would also come with memes, a populist army, and a TikTok algorithm that mysteriously suppresses dissent during election cycles.
Trump didn’t sneak in the backdoor this time. He stormed in through the front, armed with revenge, loyalists, and a propaganda machine more centralized than anything the DNC or RNC could ever build. And now that he’s back?
He’s not campaigning anymore.
He’s consolidating.
This isn’t just a replay of 2016. This isn’t a repeat of the kind of chaos-driven populism that made a billionaire reality TV star president. This is something different. Trump is now the embodiment of a political system gone rogue, where the checks and balances that once kept him at least marginally accountable are out the window.
🧠 The Legal Gray Zone Between Dissent and “Incitement”
Can you say:
“Trump is a danger to democracy”?
“This administration needs to be resisted by any means necessary”?
“Marines in the streets mean we are no longer free”?
Legally, maybe. But legally doesn't mean safely.
Because under authoritarian regimes, “safety” isn’t determined by law—it’s determined by interpretation. By local cops. By DHS agents. By who’s watching your profile.
This isn’t paranoia. Ask the people on no-fly lists. Ask the protestors arrested in Portland under Trump’s first term. Ask the January 6 defendants if selective prosecution is real.
You can technically say anything. Until you can't.
It’s a strange kind of hell, isn’t it?
To know you can say the truth, but feel that the consequences are too great. When speaking out isn’t just a political act, but a potential death sentence for your livelihood, your social credibility, or even your freedom. People like you and me—truth-tellers, troublemakers, writers—we’re walking the razor’s edge. And every word we type is a calculated risk.
👁 The Digital Chilling Effect Is the Point
The goal isn’t to arrest everyone.
The goal is to make everyone afraid they might be arrested.
That’s why the mask comment matters. It’s theater. Trump isn’t just threatening anonymous protestors—he’s laying the groundwork for criminalizing anonymity itself. If you hide your face, you’re a criminal. If you show it, you’re a target.
Online, that’s the same as saying:
“Be visible and compliant. Or be silent and safe.”
It’s not about the physical space of LA—it’s about psychic space. The idea that protest itself is somehow inherently dangerous. That expression in any form could be construed as “threatening.”
The result? A digital purge of nuance. Satire vanishes. Subtext dies. Everyone starts sounding like PR agents or conspiracy freaks—because the middle ground gets algorithmically erased.
And, guess what? That erasure is by design.
By making it harder for people to freely express dissent without fear, they make sure the only people talking are the ones who are already compliant with the narrative—those who play by the rules.
So let’s get real: you want to say what’s true? You better have a backup plan. Because the minute you speak the truth about a regime that thinks it can do whatever it pleases, you become the enemy.
⚖️ What’s “Okay” to Say in a Democracy That’s Becoming a Police State?
This isn’t just a question of freedom of speech.
It’s a question of what happens when a president and his government believe they own the narrative.
Let’s break this down into dangerous territory:
Criticizing Trump’s handling of the economy? Safe.
Saying he’s a fascist? Risky.
Saying the Marines are a sign of impending authoritarianism? Legal, but hazardous.
The key here is ambiguity. When you say anything that isn’t coded in an acceptable language of protest or policy critique, you risk being flagged. And once you’re flagged, it’s over. The algorithm doesn’t care about nuance. It’s all about compliance.
So let’s talk about what the algorithm doesn’t like:
Calling Trump a “dictator” is pushing the line.
Comparing the current situation to Nazi Germany or the Reichstag Fire? That’s asking for trouble.
Publicly stating that the use of military forces on domestic soil is a precursor to fascism? That might get you kicked off Twitter, Facebook, or whatever the new platform du jour is.
🚨 So What’s Left? What’s Actually Okay to Say?
It all comes down to the context and the language you use.
If you really want to push the envelope, and you’re willing to bear the consequences, you’ll say things like:
“Trump is orchestrating a soft coup in real time.”
“Deploying the military against domestic protestors is fascism.”
“If you’re not scared, you’re not paying attention.”
But that’s not without risk.
That means you’re officially in the danger zone. The question is: Are you ready to go there?
If you’re still here, still reading, and still fighting, then you probably are. But for the rest of the world, it’s not so easy.
🔥 The Counter-Narrative: What We Should Be Saying
So, what do we say to all of this?
First, we call it for what it is—this is fascism in the making. It’s happening now. It’s not theoretical, it’s not a future projection—it’s unfolding in real time, before our eyes.
The military is moving in.
Protesters are being criminalized for their faces.
Every word we speak is scrutinized.
But here's the thing: we are the narrative makers. We can push back.
We must push back.
In times like these, history tells us one thing: Resistance is not about winning. It’s about making the fight worth something.
We fight so that others can see the truth. We fight so that future generations have a record of what happened—what we said, and what we stood for.
Even if we’re silenced today.
Even if our words cost us something.
⚔️ If Words Are Dangerous, Use Them Sharper
Don’t cower. Sharpen your blade.
Start embedding truth in metaphor. Start writing allegory. Start speaking in riddles again, like they did in the USSR, in East Germany, in Occupied France.
Say it all—but say it slant.
Speak in layers. Make them chase the truth. Make them earn it.
And if they catch on? If they start reading between the lines and see your message for what it really is?
Let them.
Because in the end, they’re the ones who’ll be caught in the web of their own lies.
🏴 Closing Thoughts: So What Can You Say?
So what’s still safe to say?
Nothing.
And everything.
Because the more dangerous your words feel, the more necessary they probably are.
If you’re not willing to risk something to speak, then don’t pretend you’re free.
In the end, freedom isn’t given. It’s taken.
And if you can’t take it, you’re not just a prisoner—you’re part of the system that keeps others in chains.