So, this is what it must have felt like on that glorious but now doomed craft, only two short hours after the iceberg, hidden just beneath the surface, tore violently through its hull:
John, you’ve nailed the metaphor so precisely it’s almost painful. Titanic indeed.
Not the Hollywood one. Not the love story. The real one. The cold one. The mechanical groan of twisted iron beneath your boots, the salt wind that smells like endings, and the quiet, shared knowledge that something enormous has broken—and that some of us already know we’re not getting off this ship. Your reflection lands like truth always does: with gravity, and clarity, and the kind of beauty only found on the edge of ruin.
And yet—
In the face of self-extinction, something miraculous begins to stir. When we reach the end of the illusion—when even denial runs out of breath—there is still something left. Something unkillable. Something that refuses to drown.
It is not power. Not armor. Not status.
It is character.
You said it, John. When all seems lost, the real question remains: Who will I be, now that it matters most? And in that question lives the secret many never learn in easier times:
That the soul, when stripped of comfort and illusion, finds its truest form. That some people do their finest work in the last hours of the shift. That what you choose when you’re powerless—when there is no reward, no applause, no rescue—that is who you are.
And this is where your words find the deepest purchase in me. Because despite everything—despite the cynical rot of politics, the cowardice of institutions, the bad-faith liars pumping out fog by the hour—I still believe in people.
I believe in the nurse who stayed past her shift to cradle a dying stranger.
I believe in the dad who holds his trans child’s hand through a world that tries to erase them.
I believe in the janitor who cleaned the floors of the ICU while the world clapped for doctors.
I believe in the teacher who spent her last $40 on snacks for kids who came to school hungry.
I believe in the millions of ordinary humans who keep showing up, not because it’s safe or easy or rewarding—but because it’s right.
As Viktor Frankl once said: “What is to give light must endure burning.”
And there are people burning quietly all around us, every day, to keep the light alive.
I believe in them. In us.
And I believe there’s a kind of secular grace in that belief. A kind of defiant benediction in the choice to love what’s good, to tell the truth, to hold the line, even when you’re standing on a ship that’s tilting toward the dark.
That’s the miracle, John. Not that the iceberg was avoidable. It wasn’t.
The miracle is that even as the stern rises and the rivets burst, there are still those passing life jackets to strangers.
There are still songs being played on deck.
There are still hands being held.
There are still voices speaking truth into the wind.
There are still people—beautiful, fragile, brave people—refusing to be anything less than human in the hour of collapse.
And when future generations look back on this era—and they will—they may not understand how we let it get this far. But if we are faithful to the goodness still in us, they will see the footprints of those who fought like hell, not because they were promised victory, but because it was right to fight.
So may we keep showing up, even when the end feels written.
May we be honest, when lies are easier.
May we be kind, when cruelty is cheap.
May we be light—blistered, burning, but unextinguished.
Because the ship may sink. But the spirit does not have to.
Dino, you write of the pure beauty of those who refuse to believe that there is no goodness left in this world. A goodness that is fueled by the Light that will never be extinguished. And because of the few who have the strength to push on, we will make it through this insanity and find the Light still shining brightly.
This may sound silly, but if it comes to it, I will follow the Klingon saying, "It is a good day to die." It is better to die on one's feet than bow to a traitor's will. K'plagh! Let us hope it doesn't come to that.
to Dino and all of his readers who so deeply understand and give a damn about saving our American values, way of life, and societal embracement of egalitarian human values.
We must be the best American's now. We must reach out, swim with, tread water, doggie paddle with others during this unbelievable time in our/at least my personal history on this earth. We must continue to be the light in fog, we must simply care enough about others to make a difference. Thank you John for the article. We must not go down, we must not turn away from humanity, we must not!
Profound post today John. Especially these two statements: “.…..knowing that no matter what transpires after I am gone, I fought like hell while I was here.”………..“Back in November, the iceberg breached our hull, and the damage may indeed prove fatal.”
Incredible analogy and writing John. More than ever we will need to hold each other up and be the best of ourselves. The MAGAs will race for the lifeboats and shove The Others aside as they grasp their own loss of jobs, health insurance, financial stability. But right now most of them are still swilling koolaid on the tilting deck.
This is chillingly so true. Everyday I realize the truth of this and struggle to be hopeful. The news goes on blissfully telling and showing us Americans laughing and seemingly unaware of our immediate danger. Thank you for holding our hands through this awful destruction. I try everyday to smile and give love to others in small ways.
However this ends, I know that I was at least on the right side of history, fighting for truth and justice, along with all of you who read and support Jon and this column.
« Or, will I choose to spend every possible second before sinking into the frigid abyss, being as human as I can be?
Will I bring comfort to those whose hearts are unsettled? Will I rescue those in peril, even if it is but a reprieve? Will I exhaust every muscle trying to get some to safety, however unlikely the prospects? Will I fight until the last breath escapes my lungs, knowing that no matter what transpires after I am gone, I fought like hell while I was here. »
Can't lose hope. I keep thinking about the environment, Ukraine, Gaza, and places like India and Africa where so many have struggled and continue to. Our 30k ft struggles are serious, but largely psychological in the immediate sense. I am not making light of political violence, or snatch and removal simply for existing, or both. Most people are now, and will continue to be, primarily concerned about making sure there is food and shelter for them and family...their job and security. A lot of people look to election results that seem strong, then get blindsided when there is STILL partisan behaviors...including outright lying and attacks. All from people that some of us have given rent-money to. Most of those people could walk away and not have to work a day more and be perfectly comfortable. People that know very well what progressive is, and they prefer the current situation. I happen to feel it is greed, and every day confounded at what they think will be accomplished with their hoarding. By the way, that recent primary election was driven by districts of the highest educated and wealth. This contradicts that progressive ideology is anything remotely "commie" or "crazy", and absolutely not violent. They know their candidates. https://www.thecity.nyc/2025/06/24/mayor-election-map-results-cuomo-mamdani-lander-adams-new-york-city/ (you can click on regional results, and places like Mid-Town and Chelsea stick out)
Lisa, with all due respect, our struggles are not largely psychological right now. I don’t think the people who have been snatched and removed would agree, nor would their families. The rights that have been stripped away by SCOTUS are not psychological, but very really physical threats. I am not sure who you are talking about when you say that “Most of those people could walk away and not have to work a day more and be perfectly comfortable.” Not with Medicaid cuts on the line, not with abortion care for emergencies outlawed. Perhaps I have misunderstood your post about these very real threats being psychological rather than life altering and threatening. Help me to understand.
Wonderful analogy, John. In the end it is up to each of us. There is something each and every one of us is capable of doing! We all must find our niche and take action NOW!!
Unfortunately, there is a mixture of not wanting to believe, fear and paralysis. I'm afraid it will have to get much worse before it gets better again.
If the Titanic hadn't swerved after spotting the iceberg, the damage would have been largely on the front of the ship instead of the side. The side rip opened too many compartments, allowing the ocean to take away all chances of survival. If hit straight on, some of those compartments would have survived. The ship would have survived.
Right now, it might be that our country has been crushed from the front. We still have a chance to survive this tragedy if our response to the attack is not to swerve and hope for the best, but to focus on repairing the damage. However that might be done.
John, you’ve nailed the metaphor so precisely it’s almost painful. Titanic indeed.
Not the Hollywood one. Not the love story. The real one. The cold one. The mechanical groan of twisted iron beneath your boots, the salt wind that smells like endings, and the quiet, shared knowledge that something enormous has broken—and that some of us already know we’re not getting off this ship. Your reflection lands like truth always does: with gravity, and clarity, and the kind of beauty only found on the edge of ruin.
And yet—
In the face of self-extinction, something miraculous begins to stir. When we reach the end of the illusion—when even denial runs out of breath—there is still something left. Something unkillable. Something that refuses to drown.
It is not power. Not armor. Not status.
It is character.
You said it, John. When all seems lost, the real question remains: Who will I be, now that it matters most? And in that question lives the secret many never learn in easier times:
That the soul, when stripped of comfort and illusion, finds its truest form. That some people do their finest work in the last hours of the shift. That what you choose when you’re powerless—when there is no reward, no applause, no rescue—that is who you are.
And this is where your words find the deepest purchase in me. Because despite everything—despite the cynical rot of politics, the cowardice of institutions, the bad-faith liars pumping out fog by the hour—I still believe in people.
I believe in the nurse who stayed past her shift to cradle a dying stranger.
I believe in the dad who holds his trans child’s hand through a world that tries to erase them.
I believe in the janitor who cleaned the floors of the ICU while the world clapped for doctors.
I believe in the teacher who spent her last $40 on snacks for kids who came to school hungry.
I believe in the millions of ordinary humans who keep showing up, not because it’s safe or easy or rewarding—but because it’s right.
As Viktor Frankl once said: “What is to give light must endure burning.”
And there are people burning quietly all around us, every day, to keep the light alive.
I believe in them. In us.
And I believe there’s a kind of secular grace in that belief. A kind of defiant benediction in the choice to love what’s good, to tell the truth, to hold the line, even when you’re standing on a ship that’s tilting toward the dark.
That’s the miracle, John. Not that the iceberg was avoidable. It wasn’t.
The miracle is that even as the stern rises and the rivets burst, there are still those passing life jackets to strangers.
There are still songs being played on deck.
There are still hands being held.
There are still voices speaking truth into the wind.
There are still people—beautiful, fragile, brave people—refusing to be anything less than human in the hour of collapse.
And when future generations look back on this era—and they will—they may not understand how we let it get this far. But if we are faithful to the goodness still in us, they will see the footprints of those who fought like hell, not because they were promised victory, but because it was right to fight.
So may we keep showing up, even when the end feels written.
May we be honest, when lies are easier.
May we be kind, when cruelty is cheap.
May we be light—blistered, burning, but unextinguished.
Because the ship may sink. But the spirit does not have to.
Not today. Not yet
Dino, you write of the pure beauty of those who refuse to believe that there is no goodness left in this world. A goodness that is fueled by the Light that will never be extinguished. And because of the few who have the strength to push on, we will make it through this insanity and find the Light still shining brightly.
Yes. Yes, we will.
Wow. Reading this gave me chills. Thank you for your eloquence.
I am so happy to be here with all of you.
Very well written.
This may sound silly, but if it comes to it, I will follow the Klingon saying, "It is a good day to die." It is better to die on one's feet than bow to a traitor's will. K'plagh! Let us hope it doesn't come to that.
Dino, you too are a beautiful writer. Thank you for sharing your wisdom💖
Dino, your eloquence matches John’s.
Beautifully, touchingly written ... and so very, very true.
to Dino and all of his readers who so deeply understand and give a damn about saving our American values, way of life, and societal embracement of egalitarian human values.
That can still Ultimately (mostly) Save Us All...
Thank you for your beautiful words of inspiration and clarity 🙏
Beautiful Dino…
We must be the best American's now. We must reach out, swim with, tread water, doggie paddle with others during this unbelievable time in our/at least my personal history on this earth. We must continue to be the light in fog, we must simply care enough about others to make a difference. Thank you John for the article. We must not go down, we must not turn away from humanity, we must not!
Profound post today John. Especially these two statements: “.…..knowing that no matter what transpires after I am gone, I fought like hell while I was here.”………..“Back in November, the iceberg breached our hull, and the damage may indeed prove fatal.”
It didn’t have to be this way, America.
Incredible analogy and writing John. More than ever we will need to hold each other up and be the best of ourselves. The MAGAs will race for the lifeboats and shove The Others aside as they grasp their own loss of jobs, health insurance, financial stability. But right now most of them are still swilling koolaid on the tilting deck.
So powerful!!! I hope I can be my best human bc lately I’ve had very hateful feelings toward the regime and everyone who supports it!!!
It’s understandable Brenda. Remember only light can extinguish darkness and only love can overcome hate.
I agree, it brings out the worst of our fears and resentments.
This is chillingly so true. Everyday I realize the truth of this and struggle to be hopeful. The news goes on blissfully telling and showing us Americans laughing and seemingly unaware of our immediate danger. Thank you for holding our hands through this awful destruction. I try everyday to smile and give love to others in small ways.
However this ends, I know that I was at least on the right side of history, fighting for truth and justice, along with all of you who read and support Jon and this column.
« Or, will I choose to spend every possible second before sinking into the frigid abyss, being as human as I can be?
Will I bring comfort to those whose hearts are unsettled? Will I rescue those in peril, even if it is but a reprieve? Will I exhaust every muscle trying to get some to safety, however unlikely the prospects? Will I fight until the last breath escapes my lungs, knowing that no matter what transpires after I am gone, I fought like hell while I was here. »
Thanks for the words. Now to live up to them.
This is a masterpiece and voices my own feelings and fears in a way that I could not.
It is not hyperbole, at least for me, to say that this is the most incredible piece of prose I have ever read. It shakes me to my core. WOW!!
How do you do it John?…you have blown me away….
You are a rare individual….so happy we have crossed paths….thank you Debbi
Fred D
Can't lose hope. I keep thinking about the environment, Ukraine, Gaza, and places like India and Africa where so many have struggled and continue to. Our 30k ft struggles are serious, but largely psychological in the immediate sense. I am not making light of political violence, or snatch and removal simply for existing, or both. Most people are now, and will continue to be, primarily concerned about making sure there is food and shelter for them and family...their job and security. A lot of people look to election results that seem strong, then get blindsided when there is STILL partisan behaviors...including outright lying and attacks. All from people that some of us have given rent-money to. Most of those people could walk away and not have to work a day more and be perfectly comfortable. People that know very well what progressive is, and they prefer the current situation. I happen to feel it is greed, and every day confounded at what they think will be accomplished with their hoarding. By the way, that recent primary election was driven by districts of the highest educated and wealth. This contradicts that progressive ideology is anything remotely "commie" or "crazy", and absolutely not violent. They know their candidates. https://www.thecity.nyc/2025/06/24/mayor-election-map-results-cuomo-mamdani-lander-adams-new-york-city/ (you can click on regional results, and places like Mid-Town and Chelsea stick out)
Lisa, with all due respect, our struggles are not largely psychological right now. I don’t think the people who have been snatched and removed would agree, nor would their families. The rights that have been stripped away by SCOTUS are not psychological, but very really physical threats. I am not sure who you are talking about when you say that “Most of those people could walk away and not have to work a day more and be perfectly comfortable.” Not with Medicaid cuts on the line, not with abortion care for emergencies outlawed. Perhaps I have misunderstood your post about these very real threats being psychological rather than life altering and threatening. Help me to understand.
Wonderful analogy, John. In the end it is up to each of us. There is something each and every one of us is capable of doing! We all must find our niche and take action NOW!!
Light the lamps! Stay awake 🙏
Unfortunately, there is a mixture of not wanting to believe, fear and paralysis. I'm afraid it will have to get much worse before it gets better again.
I hope this eloquent post is shared widely, John.
If the Titanic hadn't swerved after spotting the iceberg, the damage would have been largely on the front of the ship instead of the side. The side rip opened too many compartments, allowing the ocean to take away all chances of survival. If hit straight on, some of those compartments would have survived. The ship would have survived.
Right now, it might be that our country has been crushed from the front. We still have a chance to survive this tragedy if our response to the attack is not to swerve and hope for the best, but to focus on repairing the damage. However that might be done.
We need a strong leader. Let's hope......