I guess I’m going to drink coffee until my arm hurts and try to convince myself that it’s a weightlifting injury. Maybe I’ll play some Lego with the girls. It’s always fun to put together a 700+ piece set so they can immediately drop it on the floor. I was able to reassemble it in about ten minutes the first time it happened. Yesterday I had my back turned for a second, and now Super Hero High School is in a box.
I am totally the dad from The Lego Movie.
It’s difficult not to stare deep into the news and compound my general life frustration with the trainwreck agony of current affairs. I had promised to engage in some shitty GONZOOOOOOOOO (I have to write it like that so you can envision me awkwardly flailing around like Kermit the Bob) journalistic blogging about the situation on the ground here in Trump Central. You know, the buckle of the bible belt, the City of Churches, not far from Klan Headquarters. FUCKIN’ GROUND ZERO, MANNN.
I’m crushed even further that there’s not much to report. This strikes me as a weird, conflicted emotional response. It’s good that jackboots aren’t thumping down Main Street, but it also means there’s nothing to do except share dank memes and read articles about things that happened in the real world, a thousand miles away. Here, it’s a lot of hurry up and wait, as the military folks say.
I realize “Local White Man Doesn’t Experience Oppression Directly” is a headline right out of The Onion, guys. Cut me just a little slack. I’m absolutely certain people are being shit on all over right now but I’m also not going to engage in the sky-is-falling theatrics I know and love so well.
For example, late last year some friends and I attended a meeting of a local Hispanic community outreach group. They had some immigration lawyers in attendance, plus a dude from the Mexican Consulate. They fielded questions from a few frightened individuals and were as helpful as they could be in a public forum. A local Arkansas State University professor, Dr. Richard Wang, was in attendance to bloviate about checks and balances like we were incoming Freshmen and assure us that “Trump is hemmed in by the Constitution.” He also expressed great faith that Senator Chuck Schumer is going to save the day. I’m pretty sure we’re all fucking doomed.
There we go. I can freak out like old times. Still got it.
Nevertheless (and I’ve expressed this before to the great disbelief of people in our shining blue metropolises and megalopolises), people who are winning on their home turf usually don’t stir up shit. The nutty guys in their throbbing phallic lift-kitted 4X4s aren’t flying so many Confederate battle flags these days. The holiday season was strangely calm. Tactical beards and open carry everywhere but not many gripes. I’m pretty sure the worst thing I heard someone speak was, “Ughhh, Megyn Kelly,” as if they’d just stepped in dog-doo.
Yeah, some Arkansas State University sorority girls dressed up as the wall at a Make America Great Again themed Pi Kappa Alpha party. It made the Facebook rounds, I posted a rant about how I was hazed twenty years ago, and then I disavowed the entire shitty organization. I realize I matter so little in this regard that my name is probably still there on the rolls I demanded to be struck from. Maybe I could write a series of articles on that. Imagine the Alpha Betas from Revenge of the Nerds then remove all dramatic irony, or maybe Lord of the Flies with less murder.
Don’t worry, it was pretty mundane in the grand scheme of things. If you really want a thrill, go watch Goat or hit yourself in the face with a hammer.
I’ve seen the recent howling (as opposed to the previous constant howling) about Congress, which is gearing up to repeal the Affordable Care Act (an acronym I recently Twitter typoed as APA, to the great glee and amusement of onlookers). I’d love to call my senators, guys, but they are John Boozman (R) and Tom Fucking Cotton (R/TP/NSDAP). If you aren’t familiar with this horroshow, he’s the guy who took a page from Genghis Khan and suggested we not only punish people who violate sanctions, but their entire bloodlines. Luckily, someone pointed out that this practice might be unconstitutional.
Maybe it’s time for the flaccid American Left to get it up like Republicans did the past eight years. They got away with some brilliant rhetoric and sometimes downright nasty open threats. Here’s one I like to bandy about: If they are actually threatening the existence of you and your families by cancelling healthcare options for millions of real live living loving human people, what are you going to do about it? Maybe it’s time to engage in some self defense.
Gotta love that freedom of speech. Goes both ways, fam.
I hope there’s nothing to report down here, people. I hope my personal conspiracy theory about this election is correct, and the Clintons attending the inauguration is their version of the Harlem Globetrotters shaking hands with the Washington Generals after the latter accidentally wins an exhibition game. “Uh, good job guys, but don’t do that again.”
That’s quite a bit of hope, though, and while I’d say, “Hope is a mistake,” someone recently rebutted my favorite slogan with, “Hope is not a mistake. Belief in change is a mistake.” I like that one even better, because we haven’t changed. We’re still self-propelled shit tubes, slightly smarter worms, thrusting, humping and squirting our way to oblivion. My Memaw used to say (still does, I’m sure), “There’s nothing new under the sun.”
That’s Ecclesiastes 1:9. “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.” King James Version, because this is how we roll down in Trumann, Arkansas, and if I quote a bible verse on my heathen rageblog I’m going to do it the right way.
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be. I hope not, kids. I hope not, but go ahead and buckle down.
I think I’m going to have something to write about.