ICE showed up at my workplace today–or rather, ICE in the guise of DHS, “The Department of Homeland Security.” The agent flashed a badge and started asking about some people with Spanish names. Did I know anything about them? I had nothing to say.

The only thing I have for ICE or DHS–the only product I can promise–is wholehearted, undying hostility. I doubt they want to hear me talk about that. So there’s nothing to say. In any case, the Homeland they’re securing isn’t mine to worry about, and the land that I live in isn’t theirs to secure. Not a promising basis for a meeting of minds–the only kind that interests me.

I opened the door this time because I didn’t know who was ringing. Next time, as far as I’m concerned, they can stand there for as long as it takes to induce someone else to open the door. I’m not the doorman. So it won’t be me.