dec 2 in idea barrages

“Oh, my old boomerang,” she said, going through her mementos from her semester in Australia, “that’s a real throwback.”

My generation looks at the rubble wrought by disease, war and stolen elections. We sit back and muse “You know, Clarissa explained very little of this, actually.”

It’s astonishing to me how much of the American left STILL petulantly suggests that they won’t vote for Biden to unseat Trump. If your ideal is helping people, you help as you can, how you can, you don’t sit on your hands to feel pure. It’s astonishingly selfish.

These people, these hateful goddamn people. If you tell them they are somehow superior to others, they will make you their king and be your slaves, just as long as they feel above others, they don’t mind being beneath you.

I dunno if there’s a sadder song in all creation than Amy Winehouse “Rehab”. A jaunty tune about believing one’s self invulnerable because you’re rich and young, and we all sang along as if it were fun, and then living that song killed her in front of us. Fame kills, I guess.

I don’t know what makes a hero but I’ll tell you what makes a heroic act: it’s when someone puts aside “being right” for the purpose of doing good.

The only thing crueler, more monstrous, than Trump are the extremists who say “just let it all burn down and the glorious revolution will build anew after”. So many would suffer and die in that fire. People matter more than ideas.

“Army Proctologist Jones, sir,” he saluted his commanding officer, “reporting for doody.”