Today I learned about the depopulation of Malaga Island in 1912. The short course: after ordinarily existing for half a century on a small island off the coast of Maine, a mixed-race fishing community was demonized as physically and mentally degenerate, its families eventually evicted en masse by order of the state governor, dispersed into the mainland population or forcibly institutionalized. All traces of habitation were razed right down to emptying the island's cemetery. Innsmouth, no fish people needed. No one has built or lived on the island since. I am glad to read that some of the descendants are now reuniting. Otherwise it is simply more evidence that white supremacy is why we can't have nice things.
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- 1: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 2: Once you know it's a dream, it can't hurt
- 3: Let the lights run like rivers all over my skin
- 4: I am bound to these shores, I'll be bound till the end
- 5: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
- 6: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 7: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 8: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
- 9: I'll stay out until my mind is like a clear glass
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