THE IMPORTANCE OF GIVING A CLUCK
There’s something deliciously poetic about the fact that on the eve of one of the most consequential political weekends of our lifetimes, the night before thousands descend on Washington, D.C. to demand impeachment and removal, the event helping keep the lights on—literally—is a comedy show sponsored by a soap company founded by a chemist, an overcaffeinated ex-drummer, and a handful of chickens who wandered into destiny. Comedy Church doesn’t just carry the weight of the moment; it hums with the manic electricity of a country that has hit its breaking point and decided, against all odds, to laugh back. And woven into that very moment, right beside the rage, the hope, the righteous fury, and the $48 tickets funding Saturday’s permits and porta potties, is a company that has built its entire identity around refusing to let the darkness win. My Cluck Hut isn’t simply a sponsor of tonight’s show. They are a philosophy masquerading as a bath-and-body brand, a quiet rebellion wrapped in soap bars, a mission-driven crew that started in the pandemic with equal parts science, exhaustion, white wine, and poultry-based gallows humor, then somehow cracked the formula for making activism smell good.
The beauty of My Cluck Hut is that nothing about them is sanitized or corporate or designed by some marketing consultant sweating into a keyboard. They were born because Dr. Jennifer Berry, an actual scientist with an actual PhD, decided that if the world was going to slide toward authoritarian nonsense, people could at least have soap that didn’t poison the waterways or burn their skin off. And while she was fine-tuning pH levels and creating vegan, palm-oil-free scents that hug your senses like a warm revolution, her husband—Dr. by Marriage Trevor Silva—was floating in an above-ground pool making chicken puns while processing the psychic collapse of 2020 with boxed wine and a stubborn refusal to surrender to despair. Out of that chaos emerged a company so defiantly kind, so ridiculously committed to community, sustainability, diversity, and justice, that their entire existence now feels like an act of protest. You don’t buy their soap to wash your hands. You buy it because you want to support a world where the people giving a damn still outnumber the people trying to burn it all down.
What matters most about My Cluck Hut—what makes them more than a sponsor, more than a quirky brand with chicken-themed everything—is that they understand the stakes of 2025 in a way most businesses can’t or won’t. They didn’t sit politely on the sidelines while the regime sharpened its claws. They didn’t hedge their bets or soften their identity to avoid controversy. They doubled down on love, community, eco-responsibility, queer affirmation, anti-cruelty values, and unapologetic humanity at a time when the country feels like it’s sprinting backwards. Their team is a motley, magnificent mix of scientists, creatives, former restaurant people, anti-capitalist bookkeepers, wellness advocates, veterans, artists, activists, and big-hearted oddballs who all share a very simple conviction: people deserve to feel clean, valued, connected, and safe, and the planet deserves better than disposable everything. They are the opposite of the regime. They are everything the regime resents. And they sponsor tonight’s show because they understand that movements don’t just need outrage. They need laughter, warmth, joy, and community—the emotional oxygen required to keep marching.
Giving a cluck isn’t about buying soap. It’s about choosing the future. It’s about deciding that kindness isn’t weakness, that sustainability isn’t a luxury, and that community is the only antidote to political rot. When you support My Cluck Hut, you’re supporting a company that puts real money into nonprofits, real effort into social change, and real heart into every bar they make. You’re supporting a business that refuses to greenwash, refuses to compromise, refuses to participate in the performative nonsense of corporate “virtue,” and instead pours genuine belief into products made by people who actually care whether this country survives the next election cycle with its humanity intact. You’re supporting the same people who helped make tonight’s Comedy Church possible, who helped ensure that activists, veterans, creators, and fed-up citizens could gather under one roof to breathe, laugh, and prepare for the fight ahead.
Tonight, when the lights go up and Cliff Cash detonates his first joke, when John Pavlovitz rolls truth across the room like a moral sledgehammer, when Elizabeth Booker Houston eviscerates political idiocy with surgical comedic precision, when Father Nathan Monk blends compassion and rebellion into a spiritual lightning bolt, and when Larry Fulford ropes the whole night together into a cathartic riot of laughter and defiance, remember that part of the energy in that room comes from a tiny company in Nashville that looked at a collapsing world and chose to respond with science, soap, and an unapologetic belief that love is stronger than cruelty. That’s what “giving a cluck” really means. It means showing up for the people who show up for you. It means supporting the companies that support justice. It means buying soap from a family that built their values into something you can hold in your hand.
So let tonight be the reminder: you’re not powerless, you’re not alone, and you’re not stuck in a country defined solely by the worst people in it. There are entire communities—like the one behind My Cluck Hut—building something better in real time. And every bar of soap you buy, every dollar you put toward people over profit, every moment you choose kindness over cynicism, is another tiny hammer blow against the regime that hopes you’ll give up. Don’t give up. Give a cluck.
If you believe in what we’re building here—independent journalism with teeth, community with backbone, and comedy sharp enough to slice through the regime’s bullshit—then support the people who make it possible. Subscribe to Closer to the Edge so we can keep doing this work at full throttle, and go buy something from My Cluck Hut, the mission-driven soap company that didn’t just sponsor tonight’s show but showed the entire movement what real values look like. Their products are vegan, sustainable, hand-crafted, and infused with the kind of irreverent, big-hearted energy this country is starving for. Giving a cluck isn’t symbolic; it’s how you vote with your wallet for the world you want to live in.



There comes a time when there is f#@£ all left to lose and courage rises into a total disdain of wild comedy so you march on regardless to whatever is coming and really that is now!
March on mes amis death or glory nothing left to lose. Free for the moment slaves to oppression and evil no more.
Deliciously fabulous!