Thursday, August 8, 2019

The Sleep is upon me today. I used the infernal machine last night & slept fairly well, but I’ve got that dreary languor that I cannot place its cause. Same dragging feeling, same zombie mindset. Anyhow.

Hey, remember that big round of arrests the ICE did yesterday at chicken plants across Mississippi? The one that came just after the company, Koch Foods, just got through paying out over $3 million on a sexual harassment case? Yeah, they cut half of them loose, emotionally scaring no telling how many kids on the first day of school of the year for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Good job, y’all.

Another victim of the Trump Administration’s hunger to get all the brown people out of Honky America is Jimmy Aldaoud. Born in Iraq, he came to America as a baby & had never seen the land of his birth nor could he speak the language. Furthermore, he suffered from, among other things, paranoid schizophrenia & diabetes. So what did the government do in all its infinite wisdom? They sent him to a country where he didn’t speak the language, didn’t know a soul, & without his insulin. He died Tuesday. Just a phenomenal job, y’all.

Of course, like with the shooting in El Paso, most of Trump’s people & his cultists are down to the ground with all of this. That first one is a killer. U.S. Attorney General Bill Barr said that American citizens see the sort of “justice” carried out by the protagonists of Death Wish & Dirty Harry as “satisfying”.

Look. Much like the libertarian dingbats who quote the bit about cuckoo clocks & Switzerland from The Third Man, Harry Callahan & Paul Kersey are not meant to be sympathetic, instead driven to extreme measures by their own lack of self-control. Despite what the sequels tell you, they’re not “heroes” & it’s unsettling as hell for the country’s Top Cop to be spewing such horseshit.

I can’t keep this up. It’s an emotional strain & no fun whatsoever. However, it is good exercise. I spend all morning digging up news, take a nice nap then trip to the gym to ruminate on things, write in the afternoon, & spend post-supper editing & tinkering. But it’s not fun & not what I really want to do. Perhaps I just need to get in a better mood, I don’t know. With the Sleep comes a thick brain & with that comes depression. Maybe I should just sleep through it.

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