More Like, Alligator Auschwitz
They’re Not Hiding Anymore.
There are no metaphors left.
What is happening in Florida is not a “crisis.” It is not “border security.” It is not “a controversial new policy.” It is a concentration camp, constructed on American soil with full intent and no shame. A facility surrounded by alligators, drenched in Everglades heat, built in just eight days, capable of holding thousands—caged, surveilled, and forgotten.
This is not rhetoric. It is the infrastructure of erasure.
And it is not an aberration. It is the natural conclusion of a project that began the moment Donald Trump branded Mexicans as rapists on national television in 2015. From the start, the logic has been elimination. Not reform, not border control, not security—removal. The enemy is not crime. It is not drugs. It is identity itself: brownness, blackness, foreignness, otherness. This administration no longer cares to distinguish between immigrant and citizen, between asylum seeker and journalist, between due process and brute force. It doesn’t have to.
Because the point is not enforcement. The point is fear.
Alligator Alcatraz, as it’s been called, is not merely a grotesque outgrowth of Trumpist cruelty—it is a deliberate experiment in dehumanization. A prototype. A performance. Officials have described the surrounding wildlife as “natural deterrents.” The facility has no real plumbing. No shade. No medical infrastructure. It is designed not just to imprison—but to humiliate, to degrade, to broadcast suffering to those still watching.
And people are watching.
On social media, far-right figures like Laura Loomer have cheered the spectacle, tweeting this horrifying post on X.
[Editor’s side note - the current population of Hispanics in America is 65 million.]
A genocidal fantasy, posted casually, publicly, without consequence. Her comment wasn’t met with outrage by her peers. It was a nod in the direction of what has always lurked beneath America’s mask: the idea that some lives, by virtue of race or origin, are disposable.
This is not about one woman. It’s about what she reveals.
The machinery of state violence is accelerating. With the near passage of the new immigration bill—a bill we should call what it is, a Big Piece of Shit Bill—ICE will receive twenty times its current funding. Twenty times the power to detain. Twenty times the freedom to ignore due process. Twenty times the ability to target Black, brown, and poor communities with impunity. The language of the bill is administrative. Its intent is unmistakably fascist.
This moment mirrors the legislative inflection point that historians warn about—the moment when cruelty ceases to be exception and becomes the law. The Enablement Act in Germany did not declare extermination. It simply gave a single man unilateral authority. It suspended rules. It authorized fear. And the killing followed.
In America, we are now there.
Trump v. CASA has rendered the Fourteenth Amendment a geographic suggestion. Birthright citizenship is no longer uniform. Depending on where you are, who’s in office, and how quickly you can sue, your Americanness may or may not be recognized. The Constitution is now regionally optional. That’s not interpretation. That’s authoritarian drift.
And while the courts equivocate, the cages multiply.
The people inside them are not theoretical. They are not anecdotes. They are names.
Kilmar Abrego García—a legal Maryland resident, wrongfully deported, forced to kneel for hours in a Salvadoran prison, beaten when he collapsed from exhaustion. Tortured. This story just broke tonight, and I’ve already cried reading it twice. No wonder this administration wanted him disappeared forever. These are crimes against humanity.
Isidro Perez, a 75-year-old Cuban American, arrested in Florida, dead before release.
These are not mistakes.
They are messages.
The cruelty is not collateral. It is the point.
And the response from the architects of this system is not horror. It is celebration. Trump smirks in photo ops. DeSantis sells merch. The cruelty isn’t hidden—it’s monetized.
This is not America failing to live up to its ideals. This is America living up to its origins. The architecture of the swamp camp is new. The instinct is not. Slavery. Internment. Sterilization. Deportation. These are not deviations from the American story. They are the spine of it. What we are witnessing is not collapse. It is a shedding of pretense.
And the ideology beneath it is not conservatism. It is white supremacist fascism.
It does not walk. It swarms. It coordinates. It reacts. It bites.
It does not care about borders. It cares about blood.
If this moment feels historic, it’s because it is.
We have built the cage.
We have filled it.
We have televised it.
We are laughing as it closes.
This is not a time for moderation. It is not a time for euphemism. If we cannot name a concentration camp on our own soil, we have lost the moral vocabulary necessary for democracy.
So name it.
Alligator Auschwitz.
Call it what it is.
Because history will not care how polite we were while fascism grew fangs.
It will only ask why we let it.