Michael Moore still believes in the power of people with cardboard signs.
In his April 4th Substack post, Get Up! Get Out! Get in the Streets!, Moore doesn’t just sound the alarm — he throws open the fire station doors and tells everyone to grab a damn hose. With Trump newly re-elected by just 1.61%, Moore is rallying millions for a nationwide day of protest on Saturday, April 5, warning that the second Trump term will come not with a whimper, but a bulldozer aimed at America’s social safety net.
“Spoiler alert: You don’t have a mandate. What you have is nearly half, or more than half, of the country taking to the streets to stop you.”
That’s Moore at his finest — blunt, factual, and motivational as hell.
He’s not mincing words about what’s at stake: Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, public education, student protections, immigrant rights — all are on the chopping block. And the threat isn’t subtle. Moore calls out “Trump and Musk and this confederacy of dunces” for their crusade to dismantle what remains of the country’s moral infrastructure.
“From the villages of Alaska to the hamlets of New England, from the county seats in the Deep Red South to township halls across the Upper Midwest… this protest is EVERYWHERE.”
It’s not just a plea — it’s a command. Moore provides links to two central hubs for organizing and finding protest locations:
https://www.fiftyfifty.one
https://handsoff2025.com
This isn’t just another newsletter. It’s a rallying cry with shoe-leather urgency and no illusions of rescue. As Moore puts it:
“The people in charge don’t seem to be doing much to save us. But what else is new. We’re going to have to do this the way we’ve done everything else — by ourselves and together.”
And in true Moore fashion, rage and humor walk side by side. Following Trump’s recent whimper about "bad pictures" of himself online, Moore invited his readers to submit their own portraits of the president — and the people delivered. In Portraits of POTUS: America’s Art Attack for Democracy, Moore showcases dozens of satirical, surreal, and defiant pieces from across the country.
“He was so hurt and so vulnerable when he tweeted last week about wanting a new portrait... and you have all come through for him.”
A people’s gallery of protest — angry, absurd, and deeply American.
But this isn’t just a moment. It’s part of a lineage. Moore’s voice — furious, funny, relentless — carries the echoes of past resistance. You can hear it in the way he mocks power, how he mixes moral urgency with working-class grit. And there’s one photo that proves it better than anything else: a quiet afternoon in the Colorado Rockies, when two icons of American dissent crossed paths — and smiled like they’d known each other forever.
In the early 2000s, Michael Moore and Hunter S. Thompson recognized each other on a flight to Aspen. After landing, Moore hopped in the car with Thompson and his crew and spent the afternoon at Owl Farm, the infamous Woody Creek compound where Thompson wrote, raged, and reloaded.
It wasn’t for cameras. There were no press releases. Just two men who knew the cost of telling the truth — and the weight of doing it anyway.
“It made Hunter’s day,” the original caption recalls. And the photo says the rest — two rebels, grinning under the Colorado sun, bonded by purpose and the unspoken camaraderie of those who refuse to look away.
One wielded a camera. The other, a typewriter soaked in whiskey and dynamite. Both knew that silence was surrender. And both believed that art, protest, and radical honesty were not luxuries — they were survival.
As Moore calls for mass protests this weekend, this image reminds us: he’s been in this fight for decades. And he’s never been alone.
The road we’re on has been walked before. By those who lit fires under the system. Who rattled the cage. Who showed up when it counted.
And now it’s our turn.
This post has been syndicated from Closer to the Edge, where it was published under this address.