DINO ALONSO – A MORAL CODE
I am an American. Fascism is not, and I will not kneel to autocracy.
THE PROBLEM
America isn’t collapsing in secret—it’s crumbling in broad daylight.
Not from just one man or one faction, but from disease:
cowardice dressed as civility, security mistaken for freedom,
a culture that forgot what liberty costs.
The center isn’t holding because no one’s standing there.
Institutions are brittle.
Truth is optional.
The powerful consolidate, and the rest scroll, distract, or despair.
THE LIE
They tell us this is normal.
That democracy is built to survive anything.
That it bends but never breaks.
That “we’ll figure it out.”
We won’t—unless we act.
THE TRUTH
Democracy doesn’t heal itself. It’s defended—or it dies.
That job isn’t for someone else.
It’s for the creator, the parent, the teacher, the voter.
You. Me. All of us.
We are the last line.
Courage doesn’t look like trending hashtags.
It looks like risk.
It looks like staying when leaving would be easier.
It sounds like truth, even when it costs you friends.
It means saying no—even when it’s your team in charge.
THE INVITATION
This isn’t a newsletter. It’s a front line.
It’s for those still stubborn enough to care,
raw enough to feel,
and fierce enough to speak plainly.
If you’ve been told you’re “too much”—too serious, too intense, too political—
you’re not. You’re just in the wrong room.
This is the right room.
Where clarity matters more than consensus.
Where old words like honor and duty aren't relics—they’re tools.
Where being clear beats being clever,
and being principled beats being popular.
THE VOICE
Call this a flare.
Call it a war drum.
Call it a deep breath before the reckoning.
It’s blunt. It’s urgent.
It’s pissed off—and still, somehow, hopeful.
It won’t flatter you.
It will call you up.
STAND TO
This is that moment.
When you stop waiting for someone else.
When you realize no cavalry is coming—
because you are the cavalry.
Stand to.
Stand to the breach.
Stand to the battlements.
Stand to the truth, even when it gets you labeled, canceled, mocked, or misunderstood.
Because fascism doesn’t just arrive with boots and flags,
it comes disguised as apathy, as laughter, as business as usual.
It comes when good people say nothing until it’s too late.
So:
Stand to your vote. Stand to your voice. Stand to your neighbor. Stand to your courage. Stand to your soul.
This isn’t performative. This isn’t theoretical.
This is the fight for what kind of country your children will inherit—
and what kind of human you’ll be when they ask what you did.
You don’t need permission. You need conviction.
The moment has already chosen you.
Stand to!
If this piece helped clarify things for you, send it to one person.
Just one. That’s how we grow—one conscience at a time.
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