A Few Notes
01/22/12 0436.51 pst
San Jose, California
Good morning to all my fellow citizens, I hope this day finds you at peace and looking forward to the progression of the Republic in our times. How this is possible with Newt Gingrich plastered all over every media outlet today is indeed a daunting task, I’m finding it extremely difficult myself, but we shall do our best. Yes.
I’ve been loathing the input of this entry, but I started the story and I can’t leave it hanging there after disappearing for months. Outwardly the evolution of that contract in the Valley was routine, I banged on servers, made a lot of money and got a reference, but unfortunately my initial diagnosis of physical wellness was incorrect, I was sick at the beginning and end of it. I was also appalled on multiple levels at the gross dysfunction of the division I served in, if asked to stay I would not have, omfg, seriously.
So I am still stuck where I’ve been for years, a puking cripple. To say I’m blue, down or depressed over the sorry scene is to so vastly understate the nightmare. It appears that I’m increasingly trapped into a path of nothing but my keyboard, which cannot be, but there’s just nothing else.
Newt Gingrich. Drone policy, global warming, food stamps, terrorism, the United States Congress! These are subject paths to good mental health? Omfg.
I would be stating none of this had it not been for a mail I received in December from a reader wishing me luck, he enjoyed the short fiction work I slapped into comments at The Whiskey Bar. What? Are you kidding me? That was eight…years…ago, and the work was good enough to stick over that span, even hidden like that? I’ll be a sumbitch.
Folks do care in their way, they’re watching and waiting for news. I have some modicum of talent to tell a story, fiction or political, but I cannot see how I’m good enough to somehow survive on it. I presently have nothing else to do, so I’m finally on Chapter 2 for a romance at Kenneth Quinell’s place. With occasional political essays, of course, in the old school 750 word format, that’s my groove.
I hope my readers and fellow bloggers understand my base political dismay stems from being outside the tribe. I am laser furious at Jerry Brown and Barack Obama in distinct, carefully enunciated ways, yes, that will soon be so quartz-crystal clear, but this places me apart from so many of my people in an election cycle.
I played football, I was in the Navy, I groped the vast skirted buttocks of my Director blindfolded along a knotted rope at a doucheclown corporate retreat, I know what teamwork is. Not to be along for the ride to defeat some ultimate dickhead like Newt Gingrich is simply a place I should never, ever be, yet I cannot endorse in any fashion the many layers of political insanity placed before us. I have to vote for Jerry and Barack in a desperate civic lunge to keep any hope of sanity in place, but by God I will bring my flamethrower and mortar while I do it.
Hm. A brother I seriously respect could say I’ll go Greenwald. What does that really mean, to be so critical of the President and the ultimate mission of the Party and Republic (Obama re-election) that I fail my civic duty? Is that the official scarlet tattoo of Outcast by the tribe now?
It only increases my political misery, ‘n I miss y’all.
Take a look at the beggars in the streets, talk to parents desperate to pay fees at UC and State, watch the coffins arrive from Afghanistan, hear the laughing felons on Wall Street. When our politics stops this insanity and the brutally ruthless knifing of the little people finally ends I’ll be along for the ride, not before.
Today is football, cooking, gym and short fiction. I’m in an okay space. [sigh] Jerry Brown and California politics layered into a Monday morning tomorrow, no escape from that I’m afraid, but it’s necessary. Please have a great Sunday.