Sunday, August 25, 2019

It’s raining again. Not quite the gully washer of yesterday’s pour, but it’s coming down fairly decently. A lot of wind, a lot of that rolling, rumbling thunder. Sounds angrier than it (probably) is, though Tropical Storm Dorian is heading to the Gulf as New Orleans prepares for another brutal rain.

I miss New Orleans like one misses an old lover, but I am glad I don’t have to deal with flooded streets & submerged cars. There’s only something like one (1) pump station for all of Orleans Parrish & it’s barely maintained. I remember walking through the French Quarter in thigh-deep rainwater flooding the streets. I remember being stuck at my place in Jefferson because the pumps there suck, too, & couldn’t handle the downpour we’d gotten. You’d think they’d fix that, I’d hate to think of another Katrina when the streets are that flooded & irrefutably sodden.

Here in the hills, we don’t have to worry about that problem. Sure, Mantachie Creek Bottom could flood, cutting us off from Peppertown, & I’ve seen the Tombigbee River Bottom overflow & cover houses, cutting us off from Evergreen. Then we’d be well & truly stuck, & it’s happened since I’ve been home.

But high on this hilltop, the worst thing I’ve got to worry about is the power cutting off. Yep, it’s pretty solid up here. Hell, even Otis has gotten comfortable here to the point that if he’s out on the front porch & will sleep through rain & thunder. He never got comfortable in Jefferson. He would freak out when I was home & there was no rain a’tall. I think the noise, particularly the nearby train, got to him. But here, he’s safe & warm, his only problem is having to wait until the front yard to dry out.

Okay. Let’s move on. Felt pretty good all day. Slept well, communed with the front yard – almost out of Las Vegas – & skipped breakfast so I didn’t have the normal torn-up stomach. Been in a jazz mood, your Art Blakey, your Charles Mingus, jazz is pretty good for a rainy day. Saw an interesting YouTube video about some of the implications of quantum mechanics. Personally, I’m good with the idea that there’s multiple Matt’s in multiple universes. I find a lot of people get weirded out about things like this; I had to quit listening to Radiolab because the logical consequences of cosmological subjects freaked out the announcers so much.

But me? I dig it. I find a cold, uncaring, bizarre universe much more comforting that the idea that there is some sort of divine consciousness & meaningful direction of development. That’s just me, though, I’m fine with walking the lonesome road alone.

Let’s get to the news.

I just want to get it out right now: all the people giving Andrew Luck shit for deciding to retire rather than rehabbing again so he can play another season need a good hard slapping, Whether it’s the asshole fans who booed him as he left the field last night to the absolutely useless cretins that make for “sports analysts”, whether television, radio or, god help us, podcasts. Useless boils on the taint of American journalism. The fans are bad enough, but I have a particular loathing for sports analysts, former athletes or the non-playing geeks who filled up the sports pages.

Luckily, the Saints were pretty cool with it, as were most actual athletes who actually have to live the life. Richard Sherman has his back, & I’m down with that. Andrew Luck’s had a phenomenal career, though he never won a Super Bowl. On the other hand, he’s worth close to $100 million & has a degree in architecture from Stanford.

He doesn’t owe anyone shit. His insides have been pounded almost to jelly so a bunch of simpering Hoosiers could pretend their lives were something other than empty & boring. Whether he made the decision last night or before the pre-season started or five minutes left in the 4th quarter of the 2019 Super Bowl, anytime one of these guys want to protect their health They don’t own you, the fan, shit nor do they owe you, the utter scumbag owner, a damn thing. Settle down. It’s just a game, & the people playing it or making themselves filthy rich over it don’t care about you.

Well, enough of that, huh? Former Senator, right-wing radio blithering jackass, & deadbeat dad Joe Walsh (not the cool guitar playing one, though) has announced his candidacy for the 2020 Republican nomination for President of the United States America. He’s a prick, & the only real difference between him & Donald Trump is that Walsh wasn’t born rich. He’s trying to “apologize” for the previous racism & xenophobia he wallowed in like a stuck hog during Obama’s presidency, but if the Trump Administration has proved anything, it’s that the “base” ain’t bothered with that.

He joins former Massachusetts governor & near non-entity Bill Weld in the running, as former South Carolina governor  horndog Mark Sanford is seriously considering a run, apparently. Of course, a loud minority of leftist/liberals/Democrats are trumpeting his run as a way of dislodging Trump’s popularity among the Republican faithful, where he enjoys somewhere in the high 90s worth of support. Don’t kid yourselves, y’all, that ain’t the way.

Speaking of Trump, the dopey fucker finally started listening to someone with sense & has said he’s having “second thoughts” over sticking a finger in China’s eye. We’re finding that Texas governor Greg Abbot had sent a racist “call to arms” for Texans to “take matters in their own hands”, in re: brown people from Mexico crossing the border. He sent out this missive like two days before the El Paso shooting. People are surprised by this connection, because we have the memory retention of goldfish. Republican politicians are ramping up racism & xenophobia just for votes & it’s time to stop screwing around & pretending they’re not.

Okay, got that out of my system. Feels good, though I know it’ll do no good. Hey, here’s a neat Rolling Stone article by Jamil Smith about the value of The New York Times Magazine’s “1916 Project” & why it’s chaffing the buttholes of conservatives far & wide. Check it out.

Well, the rain outside is still pounding down, Otis is snoozing in his box, & the oven’s warming for a pizza. A new week’s starting, & come Tuesday, I’ll be working the 2019 Runoff Election & I must steel myself for that. I may take another swing at those newly downloaded games or I may spending the evening reading weird fiction & listening to jazz. It ain’t all that bad either way.

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