They Cannot Get Rid of Us

Write so that history can never erase our stories

“All of This Has Happened Before . . .”

There is one part from one of my favorite books of all time, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Díaz, that has been in my head lately.

The novel tells of three generations of one Dominican family. Chronologically, the tale begins with the titular protagonist’s grandfather, Dr. Abelard Luis Cabral, in the Dominican Republic, from the mid-to-late 1940s. At the time, the DR was reigned by Rafael Trujillo–the nation’s historical tyrant so evil and powerful the book’s narrator, Yunior de Las Casas, says, without exaggeration,

“He was our Sauron . . . our Darkseid . . .” (allusions to J.R.R. Tolkien’s heinous Dark Lord and Jack Kirby’s suffocating nemesis of The Fourth World Saga).

Though once an influential and wealthy man, Dr. Cabral, by the cruelty of Trujillo, ultimately loses everything, save his newborn child, who escapes the dictator’s omniscient sight.

One of those losses is an unpublished manuscript the doctor was writing, “an exposé” on how Trujillo was a “supernatural . . . creature from another world.” Yet the book is burnt by the dictator’s forces, along with every paper Abelard wrote or owned. Yunior doubts Abelard’s theories, but comments on the odd severity Trujillo exhibited in destroying the doctor’s work: “But not one scrap of paper with [Abelard’s] handwriting [survived]? That was more than thorough. You got to fear a mother fucker or what he’s writing to do something like that.”

Keep that detail in mind.

Tyrants hate writers and love to burn words.

Tragically, Abelard’s grandson, Oscar, suffers a similar fate. A book he wrote that is “the cure to what ails us,” which he sends to his sister, Lola, for her to keep, is lost in the mail and never recovered. Yet, in the world of the novel, Yunior wrote The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao: the very book readers hold in their hands, conveying the truths within this familial narrative across dimensions. No history remains truly lost. Yunior often refers to himself as “your Watcher”: a reference to the race of cosmic beings in Marvel Comics with omniscient sight who bear witness to the stories of the multiverse. They keep these histories safe within their hearts and minds “until the Last Days.”

Again, keep that detail in mind.

“Fell Deeds Awake: Fire and Slaughter!”

I am angry again. I will not be quiet about my wrath. I am furious for a specific reason.

On March 15, 2025, NPR published this report, written by Tom Bowman and Ayana Archie. The evil Galactic Empire, and every spineless lackey in the public and private sectors who refuse to stand up to these beasts but instead bend their knees, has decided even our dead are no longer due sanctuary. Per Bowman and Archie’s report:

“Arlington National Cemetery has begun wiping from its website histories highlighting Black, Hispanic and women veterans.”

The oligarchs are perpetuating the destructive lie that the only people of significance in our world are people like them: straight, white men. Nobody needs to tell you how untrue and wicked this belief is: you already know because the fact is obvious.

Another key detail to keep in mind. Per the NPR article,

“The story was first reported by Civil War historian Kevin M. Levin on his Substack newsletter and by Task & Purpose, a publication focused on military news.”

A simple writer on

Substack

did the reporting—a private sector individual with supposedly insignificant sway compared to the publications and corporations that the oligarchs own. My, my, what power we little people have.

This dishonor of the victorious dead, (and there is a special place in Hell for those who do wrong to soldiers worthy of Valhalla), is heart-wrenching enough amongst all the other unfunny crap these heartless facsimiles of human beings are doing daily. But what really struck me hard was the fact that the dead are no longer safe. They cannot defend themselves. Like Dr. Cabral and his grandson in Oscar Wao, their words, ideas, papers, and very testaments that they were here are at the mercy of the tyrants. With a few keystrokes, history–made up of people and their stories–vanishes.

Burnt. Destroyed. Gone.

“. . . And It Will Happen Again.”

As a kid, the closing conversation between Magneto and Professor X in the original X-Men film was really cool. Sophisticated and so different from the ‘90s cartoon in the best of ways. Now, the scene haunts me, especially the first lines spoken by Magneto:

“Does it ever wake you in the middle of the night? The feeling that one day they will pass that foolish [Mutant Registration] law, or one just like it, and come for you? And your children?”

Professor X’s response is the same as mine:

“It does, indeed.”

Right now, we have the ability to write and vent all we want online and in physical texts. Our only problem is marketing and getting people to pay attention to us. At the start of 2025, I had hoped my initial instinct was right, that this aggressive parade against anyone different was merely incompetent assholes in the honeymoon phase of their power trips. But I have been wrong in the past, and think I am wrong now. For I never thought the true histories of buried veterans would be manipulated in databases. Unbelievable.

Now, I worry that marketing our words is not our only problem. I fear that one unfair bill here, another imperial order there, and then, the day after tomorrow, our ability to protest and speak out against the will of the few vanishes. Just ask Lauren Tomasi from a month ago.

I think about the writings annihilated in Oscar Wao. Total extinction of information—truth—that we need. I think about how the Nazis murdered 11 million “undesirables” because they were “different.” Imagine what knowledge, art, and salvation was killed with every one of those souls? The Nazgul who rule over us are manipulating history just as George Orwell prepared us for. Who cares what power our written words have if no one can read them because, in the absolute worst case scenario, the oligarchs vanquished them? Just like in the days of the Latin American tyrants; of World War II; of countless centuries behind us?

Then, I thought about how Yunior kept the Cabral family history alive in his writing. How independent news sources like Substack have not been shut down yet. I started thinking, and thinking…

“No Good Thing Ever Dies.”

Keep writing, folks, and do not stop, because even when we are dead they cannot get rid of us.

In Oscar Wao, Trujillo feared Cabral, and that is why he wiped every trace of him from the face of the Earth. NPR credited a private Civil War historian here on Substack for reporting on a heinous act done to the memory of soldiers. Despite the masses killed by the Nazis in World War II, more than that unspeakable number survived and told the truth again and again, unsilenced.

We do have power, and part of that power is being clever and not shutting up. They cannot get rid of us.

Write and send your words to publishers, magazines, newspapers, organizations. Publish on Substack. Print out your pages, laminate them, and put them all over your local grocery store parking lot. Spam your social media page with your writing. Print and bind your words. Lock them up in a box, properly prepared for protection against insects and erosion, and bury them in your backyard, by a creek, in the desert, in a secret hole in your wall, with your friends. Make copies, copies, and copies. Keep some of them secret and safe, spread out the rest. They cannot get rid of us.

Those buried veterans have so many people who know their histories must continue to tell them–no matter what the government does or says. If we were to stop writing, talking, sharing, and protecting the stories that we know, then the oligarchs will have their “truth.” But they cannot get rid of us.

Save these stories, and yours. Protect them and spread them, by digital and physical means, in any way you can, always, and make sure others do the same for you. They cannot get rid of us.

“I am Plato’s Republic”

One of my favorite cartoons is Recess. The show’s film, School’s Out, has always been a summer-time favorite of mine. In the tale’s climax, the villainous Dr. Phillium Benedict, to improve test scores, is going to bring a permanent end to summer vacation, “the ultimate recess,” by causing (through wonderfully silly sci-fi ridiculousness) a new, worldwide ice age. When the grown-ups have seemingly defeated the rebellious force of elementary school kids, the heroic 4^th grader, T.J. Detweiler, makes this declaration Benedict:

“You got it all wrong, old man. Your plan will never work. Sure, maybe your crazy laser beam can move the moon. Maybe it can even make it snow all summer. Maybe you can get rid of long afternoons playing baseball, or sunny days down by the lake or warm nights camping out under the stars. But that won't stop us. We'll ride our bikes through the snow! We'll play kick ball in the slush! We'll camp out in igloos! You may take away summer, but you'll never take away summer vacation!”

They are trying to make us go away. Shut down our forums. Ban and censor our art. Alter historical data. Burn our writings. But we creative, forgotten, and rejected folk have the power to keep our stories flowing and circulating in every way our minds can imagine. Together, our truth and knowledge and love can be found, seized, and protected. Made everlasting through the power of story.

They will not get rid of us.

Want a writing partner to guide you through the intricacies of telling your story? Don’t even know where to start? The story coaches at OBA Media are here to amplify your voice! We’re now booking limited spots for a FREE editing session with our story coaches.

More related storytelling tips we’ve talked about:

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🎧PODCAST SNEAK PEAK 👀

This past week, we talked with the wonderful

Jessica Ann

about her upcoming fantasy novel series, Woven in Time. For the story behind the story, tips for blending genres and writing bold novels, and insight into the publishing process, catch the full episode here.