So I have no idea what people are talking about anymore. Is it because the president cannot possibly make himself understood that there appears to be no government?
No, it is because his opposition is as useful as a dog that was shot three days ago and not been moved from the spot where it lay down to twitch and die.
Glitterati fistfucker ultimate victory, with technocrat chaser on the back of the christofascist and mindgamed masses. Hell yeah, boys. Peak civilization. Should we call it the Reverse Arab Spring or simply the Suicidal Reflex?
*
At this point I'm even prepared to entertain the idea that I am wrong, and that this monstrous crazy horseshit really is the best thing for the country and the world, after all. Just to make myself feel a little better. And, look. I mean. I am not privy to classified data! Try to read a lot of history and keep up with current events, but all of our knowledge is so incomplete in the face of the vast complexity of ten billion human stories which are sequels to fifty billion other stories, set in a world made out of stories. If some of the internet I read in my youth was as prophetic as some of the other internet that has proven prophetic, at the end of all this chaos and destruction we will see that there was an endgame all along, and that endgame will be good, Good, even Real Good--The Fuckin' Tight Sweet Redemption of Western Civilization or something.
What the fuck do I know? Maybe, man! Maybe.
Anyway I would be prepared to entertain that notion. If there weren't individuals like Stephen Miller running around actually doing shit. If you know what a person should know about that piece of work, you know how deadly-ass close we are to the kinds of genocide and extralegal uses of military force that really stick with you, maybe make it into classrooms all around the world. Stuff dudes get tried at the Hague for--but not before they get away with it.
So there's not a lot of fun penis jokes I can write around that. Steve Bannon didn't pull this double-barreled blitzkrieg to make DJT the president. That would be funny and I would barely care to comment, frankly. He did it for Stephen Miller and the people like him currently hard at work with no apparent holds barring them, which is decidedly not funny and I am remiss in my duties as keeper of record, a writer, an artist, and a human being if I don't say so plainly. This will be tragic in the extreme if it truly runs its course.
*
Shit though, what do I know from funny or tragic? What do I even know about shit? Maybe I want to feel better. Fuck it. The alternative is to meditate on all the years I spent enduring being the immigrant, all the work I put into becoming a citizen, all the taxes I've paid and the work I've put into my communites, all for the twist of having to witness democracy collapse and the killers and thieves rule the roost--the same reason I emigrated in the first place.
Wow. Yes, it is a little bleak written out like that. I guess I don't regret it, though. I love being an American, and I have loved being an American and living in America. It has not been perfect, but it has been fun and extremely generous with freedoms and privileges. I tried to do a good job, give back, earn my keep, all the stuff they say is right and proper.
Ah, but killers and thieves have always lolled in the sun while I worked the night shift. There was always a blood price being paid for the fun I had and the ease I took. Should I resent it when it comes due?
You know what? No. In fact. It strikes me in this moment that I don't have the right.
When things looked good for us--according to my perhaps optimistic perception, all of us, a human family with all its flaws and glories, marching bravely into an egalitarian future that would transcend poverty and hatred--I said to myself that things were working well enough to that end given the realities of this weary world, and anyway I could expect them to continue to improve while doing my most basic civic duty and tending to my garden as virtuously as possible. I thought that by speaking the truth and setting a good example, that by merely living a life for its own sake, it would all come to pass--right before my very eyes! Global truth and reconciliation, hossana in the highest, etc.
Well, that wasn't enough, and to let myself think so was perhaps a kind of delusion. Not that there is anything wrong with just trying to live a simple life trying to be a good person--on the contrary, it is the highest attainable goal. I just mean that maybe I should not have shipped my oars and chilled to the music of the spheres. Should have joined model U.N. after actually accepting that invite to Cranbrook Academy, gone to MIT or somesuch, and accomplished something major in order to be most useful to my fellow citizens. Instead I opted to get really good at wearing leather jackets and cultivating an ultimately unwieldy body of (perhaps excessively fiction-based) knowledge and non-utile principles. Also drugs.
Service, when necessary, must come before self-cultivation. Perhaps I have failed to live up to this truth. That of duty, and rising up to meet it. Such is the tattered attraction of a degenerate culture, I suppose! Service in the service industry, I suppose, lacks the necessary gravitas that is granted to say, a diplomat.
*
Really, though. End of the day, fuck these people. Fuck them. Cretinous poltroons. Dog-livered cowards with cockroach minds. Fucking cuck simp bitches. Look to your own houses! That's all I have to say to you wretched, thrice-damned afterbirths. The cowards doing violence and the cowards letting them.
Because, see, it's not fuck red, or fuck blue. It's fuck the Man. Fuck the whole Man, that whole guy. Not half of him. The motherfucker himself, always. These are the optimal times to say it loudly, perhaps even feverishly. Screaming it might be appropriate, or typing it out as if you are screaming; perhaps, even, screaming as you type.
--JL
