Liz Cheney is as big a fucking hate-mongering idiot as her devil father. Spawn of the devil keeps his evil going…
I may have been followed this morning. A woman I had seen on the train got onto the elevator with me and did not choose a floor while I was on the elevator. I do have to say though, that she did not get off at the 6th floor as I did.
When I go to businesses that ask my name, I make one up. Your name? Aristophanes. Spell that one. Then pronounce it.
We are losing. Here is my prediction of what is going to happen: The ginormous corporations will continue to get bigger and proliferate. The masses, increasingly ignorant and sedated with fast food, television, noise, sports, and religion will become even stupider, turning back into the peasants of the middle ages. The power elite are going to win and the poor are going to help them. The poor want to be rich and if they were given the means, they would act the same way so they don’t question being constantly sold and mollified with product, trying so hard, kissing vacations goodbye and futilely trying to shovel their toddlers into Harvard. Since they will not become a part of that which they seek, they go along and buy their lottery tickets, stuffing their faces, plugging earphones into their heads and turning up the music so they can drown out their own oblivion. They believe it when they are told there is a magnificent being in the sky who cares about them and will take care of them after death so they don’t have to concern themselves with the fact that the place in which they are actually living right here and right now carries other possibilities. Numbed and choking on corn and petroleum, they will let the power class continue to take them and take the planet. In time, those of us who are in the minority and see the damage and want change may rise up and revolt, but success is an unlikely prospect.
And a thought from my friend Carin: Something that’s been bugging me. Self righteous boobs claiming to be upstanding and moral whilst they are posing half nude with photographers, getting boob jobs and participating in a meat, sorry, “beauty” pageant. Or teenage twits who claim they are the voice of abstinence-only sex ed while holding their baby that they conceived obviously not through abstinence.
As I walk to the subway, ride the subway, and walk to my office, I’m filled with thoughts and observations. The moment I walk through the door and sit down under the flourescent lights, the thoughts fritter away into the ether. I wonder as I’m walking if I should stop and write some of the thoughts into my notebook, but I don’t do it. My notebook used to be full of thoughts, but right now the only words there are a note I took to remind myself to contact my daughter’s school about an art teacher who smashes art pieces she deems unworthy of her almighty judgment. Other than that, nothing. Is it the flourescent lights? Maybe it’s the air-conditioning. Maybe it blows the thoughts from my brain.