by Brett Hamil
Greetings fellow homeowners!
I write to you with great optimism. Our movement is growing and Seattle’s politicians cower in fear before our mighty residential power. We are still a long way from finally making the word “NIMBY” a hate crime punishable by law, but we have seen great gains in the past month.
At the recent town hall in Ballard, we gave the city council a good look at the sleeping giant they have awakened. (I was the guy in the Ballard Seafood Fest t-shirt screaming “bullshit!” whenever any of the people on the dais tried to speak, haha.) If you couldn’t make it, be sure to check out the coverage on MyNorthwest.com, Seattle’s only reliable news source.
One thing I’ve noticed after watching our public comments is that we all need to get on the same page about proper terminology. It is crucial that our message wins over the undecided, and thus we need to be careful how we frame the discussion.
Instead of saying you’re an “enraged vigilante about to snap like Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino,” say you’re a “concerned neighborhood advocate.”
Instead of describing people living on the street as “filthy drug addicts hell-bent on mayhem,” try “victims of the homeless-industrial complex.”
Instead of saying, “We must baptize Seattle in a cleansing fire of righteous fury,” try something like, “We need compassionate, evidence-based solutions to our current problems.”
The main reason I’m writing today is to warn you of the greatest threat this city has ever faced in its entire history: Councilmember Mike O’Brien. Beneath his affable, easygoing, kayaking exterior lurks a horrific menace of pure evil determined to destroy everything you and I hold dear. Don’t be deceived by his endearing smile or those twinkly, disarmingly sympathetic eyes; this man is a monster.
The most dangerous thing about Mike O’Brien is that he looks exactly like one of us. He’s a white, middle-aged, affluent northend parent and homeowner. He seems like the type of neighbor who’d plant a little garden in the roundabout, the type of dad who’d bring fresh smoothies and edamame beans for the whole Little League team.
But it’s all an elaborate ruse.
O’Brien wants us to think he supports this Employee Head Tax because he cares about the homeless, but I’m not buying it. He’s fallen under the spell of Kshama and her rampaging horde of shaggy-haired, gender-bending Trotskyists attempting to foment class warfare in our once-sleepy little town. They’ve tricked him somehow.
Or else he’s working some other angle I haven’t figured out yet.
Who does he think he’s fooling? Does he think he’s better than us?
He is us, dammit! That’s what makes him so dangerous.
If Mike truly believes we should tax corporations to build housing for the homeless, it’s a proposition too awful to consider. Because it means there could be more just like him walking around undetected in our midst, all clean cut and courteous and from here but still plotting the end of Seattle as we know it. Not some wild-eyed radical from Evergreen or Oakland blocking downtown traffic, but the mild guy sitting next to you at the lutefisk-eating contest.
This means they could someday outnumber us real Seattleites and we wouldn’t even know it. Hell, they could outnumber us already. Doesn’t that send chills down your spine?
But let’s try and stay positive and celebrate our recent victories. Chances are Durkan’s gonna swoop in and save the day anyways. Keep your eyes on the prize and stick together in this fight for the soul of the city. Stay concerned, my fellow homeowners! There’s a place for each and every one of you in the single-family zone of my heart.