Sunday :: Aug 23, 2020

Core Elements of America Under Attack

by paradox

It is impossible to place into the words the profound dismay I possess at watching the United States Postal Service under attack and degradation by President Trump, the creep of fascism has completely ended and this could be the final loud smash where they really take the country apart and we actually lose the democracy.

Tumbling right after this news was the Senate Intelligence report on how President Trump cheated Election 2016 with the Russians, he already tried to cheat 2020 with the Ukrainians and now he’s really doing it with our Post Office. Trump regularly calls Putin and no one knows what they say.

The psychology and political doomsayers leapt out of the woodwork with frantic fear, Trump will smash up any close election or if he loses tear down the country with him, be ready for any civic horror.

The searing failure of Robert Mueller and his instant status as an enabler or Putin facilitator was a terrible blow, the truth of our horrible halter to Putin is right there but oh well, it must be me. All of this crunched into my psyche and neurological issues and I puked for a day.

No I’m not all sick like I was but once in a great while it sill happens. Now do y’all understand why I’ve been told to find other duty?

The Republicans have so nothing, they build or preserve nothing, they help no one, they have no vision for the future, all they seek is oppression, power and owning the libs. You did it so well I puked all day and my diaphragm is sore. Good one, dudes!

Here in the Bay Area the air reeks and chokes in milky skies, all of us heartsick to lose Big Basin and possessing serious worry for all our mountain and Santa Cruz people. I will never forget the sticky Sunday morning ride of rainbow and lightning that started it all.

Baseball is a funny quirky distraction with weird cutouts and stuffed animals in the Oakland stands, and the second cutout to the left behind home plate looks just like my old girlfriend, I’m serious. Oh my god, what fresh hell could 2020 possibly deliver after this?

Keep your chin up, John Cole of Balloon Juice said a little ways back. [sigh] All right, my brother, all right.

I bought a grocery worker a bouquet of flowers 10 days ago, initially she was suspicious of the random kindness but accepted the flowers mutely soon after. I contributed to the MJ Hegar campaign in Texas, and spent $200 at the Biden/Harris store.

As far as cash goes that’s more than enough for any little person. I still have to bake cookies with my phone number attached to the plate for two elderly neighbors—just to let them know I’m around if they need me. I take really good care of my little house, and I don’t let my body go.

In something truly new for me I discovered 12-volt stereo fidelity on a bike, I attached to Charge4 JBL battery speakers to my baskets and use my phone as a player with Bluetooth. The cylindrical shape of the speakers give an amazing bass range and yeah I turn it up, I turn heads wherever ago, as usual the exhibitionist with my shirt off and no helmet. So sue me.

It’s something, anything, god, Melania tore out Jackie’s crabapple trees and there’s no college football. The unemployment rate is in the stratosphere, Trump’s going to veto the Post Office rescue bill under Putin’s orders and someday the fires here may go out. If we don’t get smashed by the pandemic.

So I’ll ride my bike, do small good things, take care of my house and drop off my ballot at the local library, it’s 300 yards from here. If you think it can’t get worse, you’re wrong, Lady Michelle said. Yes ma’am, I understand that very well. I’m not going anywhere.

paradox :: 6:04 AM :: Comments (0) :: Digg It!