I wake up to die another day. It’s been this way since well before the man who should not be there pushed his way through into the daily consciousness of all good beings who intend to make our world a better place for all. He was sent by the dark lord of the far north to rattle and hum his way through to the utter destruction of every fiber of goodness we have sown and grown since the 1960’s. The white men of pasty bovine faces with triple chins delight in his boorish, meaningless vocalizations that leave even George Orwell clutching at the dirt above his grave to wrestle himself from expiration to yell, “Not this one! He can’t even bother to know one word from the next nor in what order they fall. This is not NewSpeak but Nonsense!”
I find myself in moments of gaiety with friends as we find time to make plans, enjoy them, complete them, and then return home to the quiet place inside where the largest of emergency packs seem not to be nearly enough for the future. My earthquake kit has turned into my doomsday kit which seems ever more imminent than the “California Big One.” Yesterday, I purchased a crowbar to add to my collection of items for the change that include heavy-duty gloves, bits of food that lasts for years, bottles of water (while it’s still clean and obtainable via spigot), cable ties, plastic tarp, socks, boots, two hats, thick clothing, flashlight, batteries, a bottle of vodka (to trade a shot for a bit of chili or to clean a wound), and a game of dominoes. As of late, I have been pondering the purchase of a small handgun…
The President of the United States is killing me. This is not the me I have known and loved for the ego-related segment of my 55-years. This is not the superego I have carefully coiffed from my caring human who strives to make the best judgments for the good of all. This is not the me whose conscience weighs heavy these past couple years with thoughts that I must do more to help save our America from this evil intrusion that has spawned the agents of Nosferatu to rise up and erase all good from the planet, sucking out every molecule of life from its core. That me shuffles through my quotidian work, placing one foot carefully in front of the other like a post-lobotomized Randle McMurphy in Kesey’s “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
Collectively, we are being lobotomized by a government that no longer operates on principles. Ours is now a government that lies on a minute-by-minute timeline – a circadian rhythm of lying. The GOP serves its innate greed by changing rules as it needs to succeed (Garland SCOTUS pick held hostage, enabling Chief Nosferatu, gerrymandering), and rigging a system so deep that they have tunneled all the way to Siberia to chain it to the other side.
Yes, I’m still going to bed and waking up at hours I’ve associated with wellness my entire life. Yes, I make way to the outdoors to breathe in the cool ocean air and move my body in an attempt to keep it fit. Yes, I communicate with others every day, but it feels like we all swirl about in slow motion among the aisles of choice in the supermarket in Stepford.
I shall continue to prepare my classes for the fall semester even though I wonder if there will be one…
evil spawn of satan