Bombs, Propaganda, and Money

I tried to do a posting the other night, and thought maybe I could keep myself from flailing around violently if I tranquilized myself with some of the traditional anti-anxiety drugs. By the time I was done writing – something – I was pretty much incoherent. It was also embarrassing because, as I was writing, I was imagining myself as being much wittier and more organized than I was.

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F-35 Blues

It’s getting seriously hard to find the strength to talk about anything positive since January, and the genocide in Gaza and now Israel is testing Iran’s right to exist, and vice-versa. One bombed-out civilian neighborhood full of corpses and rescue workers looks pretty much the same. As Mark Twain once said, regarding religion, if you take two adherents of the religions of peace and lock them in a room together with knives, you’ll come back to find they have disassembled eachother and taken their case to a higher court.

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What Should Biden Do?

I’ve spent the last few days hiding under my bed with mint ice cream, Xanax, my L1A1 and some full clips. Between the debate and the supreme court’s ridiculous decision, I have been feeling helpless, and I don’t like that feeling in the least little bit. But I can’t help trying to think, even when not much happens. This afternoon, while I was filing out the mekugi hole on a dagger named “Beast Mode” it all clicked into place. I’m not sure how to write it – whether I should fictionalize, or be sarcastic (e.g.: “ask the strategic genius”) so I am just going to wing it and see if it works.

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