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Some days you ain't got much.
Non-stop rain and storms and flooding and now a tornado watch here. About the only thing they're not calling for is lava flows. All of this somehow seems fitting. The weather and the national mood are slow-dancing, and putting their hands on each other's ass.
The only thing that could have knocked the vicious reemergence of Covid cases off the front pages was a foreign policy disaster of biblical proportions. And, right on cue, there it was. Afghanistan is now another Middle East shit-show, with the conquering Taliban snapping social media selfies at the Presidential palace, calling to mind our own nitwits of January 6th. A pack of raving, swaggering incels with severe Mommy issues are now the proud owners of billions of dollars worth of US military equipment. What could possibly go wrong?
In the midst of all this the Governor of Texas, one of the most vociferous of the Trump loving ghouls in various red-state state houses, tested positive for the virus, but didn't let that stop him from continuing his crusade to make this virus easier to catch for the school children under his watch. You don't need no stinkin' masks in Texas, Bubba. And if you suggest otherwise, the Guv is gonna cut your funding. Just like Jesus would do.
(One desperate school board is getting around the Governor's mandates against forced-masking by making face coverings part of their official school dress code. It really is staggering that such loopholes need to be utilized to keep kids alive, but we live in savage times, yo. As it currently stands, the republican 2024 nomination is closed to all but raving Trump loving sociopaths...and any nod towards science, or indeed exhibiting any type of public empathy, is treated as a weakness and crushed like bathtub grapes. Dead kids are collateral damage. Onward Christian Soldiers!)
The Governor was quick to note that he is vaccinated, and that he was exhibiting no symptoms. One would hope that he realizes there is a direct correlation between the two, but.....well......one might be disappointed. His state remains in the bottom tier of total vaccinations, at less than 50%. The Governor attended a crowded and maskless indoor "Republican Club" event the evening prior to his positive test, so there may be some anxious moments for some today. But then again, maybe not. Because...well.....Texas.
Woody Guthrie called humans "hoping machines", noting that hope was the only thing keeping us from the evolutionary scrap-heap.
Hope these days is a rare commodity. I find myself in a sort of depressive fog, not really aware of how disengaged I can be. After a long day I can sit in front of a droning TV, and hours disappear. My own exhaustion is no longer worthy of my own attention. Sleep becomes more refuge than rejuvenation. Nothing touches the tired spot. Sometimes it seems that all the rational, caring people have been shoved onto a small island. The mainland has been overrun with our own brand of Taliban......perpetually wronged bigots...professional victims who pump themselves up with rage and Bud Light. A dominion of shitheads.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Back to back to back movie nights.
Rudy. Field of Dreams. Hoosiers.
You can take your drugs, and I'll watch 3 of the greatest cornbally sports movies OF ALL TIME.....and I'll weep like the first time y'all saw "Brian's Song" DURING EACH ONE.
"Who's the wild man now??!"
"Dad? Wanna have a catch?"
"I love you guys...."
I'm not crying.....you're crying.
I want to carry Rudy off the field and shake Moonlight Graham's hand and watch Shooter call for the picket fence. I want to live in those world's. In the shadow of the golden dome, or amongst the beauty of a Iowa cornfield, or with the peach basket hoops nailed to Indiana barn doors. I want to be as dogged as Rudy and have the touching, simple faith of Ray Kinsella and slay Goliath while outrunning my demons like Coach Dale.
I want life to imitate art.
So, yea, the feeling wears off but so do drugs. I can give myself a sort of natural high, 2 hours at a time. Not bad business. And cheaper than Benzos.
And so much for all that. It's a shit world these days. The Taliban don't dream. They are the stuff of nightmares. Like sharks, they have to keep moving or they die.
I want dreamers. And rousing music at the end when the dreams come true.
It’s been too quiet around here lately.
In a bit..