This is Erica, welcome to Rumblestrip, and it is time again for the seasonal update.

In certain American subcultures, there's a long tradition of sending out end-of-year family update letters to

far-flung relatives to friends and

acquaintances. Is this the year that that tradition comes to an end? Here is the

seasonal update from the Keene family by Tal McPhenia.

Welcome.

Dear all, this is the first non-political writing I've been able to muster since the afternoon of

November 8th.

You may recall the picture I tweeted out that day.

My daughter Dory, clutching hands with Kendall, her intrepid little

African American Welly Wisher doll, both wearing homemade t-shirts that read, I'm with her snapshot of a future foreclosed.

I realize even this innocent memory may offend some of you.

For years you have enjoyed the polite cheer of keen seasonal

updates as written by our mother Jan and since I inherited update duty after her

death three years ago I have tried my best to uphold that

tradition of happy blandness. No longer. The world is different and the lines are drawn.

To the sprains, to the canfields, to at least half of the Boans,

and I'm sure Dad's entire extended family in Michigan, There is no longer a place for you in the

keen family heart, holiday, or home. You may be outraged by this statement. You may

gasp that Jan would roll over in her grave.

No, I reply, our mother would cheer.

Behind her Rosie smile, she despised you all for decades,

...