January 6, 2021. Now about that US Capitol riot. Did you see footage after the fact? Or perhaps you watched the live feed, if you were in a conducive time and media zone? At the very least, I bet you’ve seen plenty of images.

Rioters smashing the window, clamoring to crawl through. Crashing through barricades and crawling up walls. Rushing an overwhelmed police force with weapons homespun and hi-tech. Flagpoles, chemical sprays, zip ties, crowbars, Tasers, fire extinguishers, flagpoles, baseball bats, tomahawk axes, and more. Ambling inside while a few friendly officers stood by. Building a gallows and shouting, “Hang Mike Pence!” Desecrating the chambers. Scaling statues and standing on tables, rifling through papers and posing for photo-ops. Feet casually splayed on Nancy Pelosi's desk. A beaming man in a ski cap walks away with federal furniture. Costumes, ranging from QAnon shaman to soldier. And the flags: Trump flags (including a Rambo version), Gadsden flags, Confederate flags, Betsy Ross flags, Minutemen flags, Marine Corps flags, Jesus flags, an eclectic assortment of far-right flags, and that is not the half of it. A bewildering array of signs. Among them, urine and smeared feces left behind.

Do you remember what you thought of the rioters as you took this in? Something you may have muttered to a companion or—like me—shouted right at the TV? How did you feel?

I remember shaking, intermittently tearing up, staring at the screen transfixed, and numbly moving through the house, unable to sit still. That afternoon, I was supposed to meet up with a religious right family member, but I knew who she voted for and couldn't stomach it. She hadn't yet heard of the riot when I called to cancel, and we never spoke of it since.

What I felt, mostly, was a soupy mix of shame and disgust. Shame, I presume, because I know these people, at least some of them. They are my people, and sometimes the guilt of association and past lives floods me. Shame, amplified by the knowledge that these mostly white folks would be dead, or in grave danger, if they were Black Lives Matter protestors behaving half that badly. This was “flaunting the low” at a whole new depth. This was the base of the base, and painful to behold. Surely they’d hit rock bottom?