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Proposition B begins differently, with breath, a soft exhaust, dispersed debris and then these words breathing slowly. Hey. Relax. Its intonation would appear friendly, coming in and out with its tide of breath. But do you trust it? Haven't we grown numb to this friendliness, that coercive calm of advertising, self-help, bait-and-switch sell. Because surely we recognize not everything is okay. Proposition A was certainly full of not-okay. And we've learned distrust. Being rightfully so doesn't make it easier. Torturing our connection with earnest pleas seems a theme of this Biennial.
