The Weekend: May 23-24, 2020

 It’s been a drag of a week and I’ve spent the weekend in a foul mood. Partly, I don’t know why but mostly because this culture is just too damn Dumb for me to take seriously anymore. But before we get too deep in the big muddy, let’s go ahead and lay out some links to the Gibberish output this week.

 I’ve had a bit of Actual Paying Work to do this week, so it’s cut into my bullshitting time. I kept having good ideas that were worth expanding upon but never had the energy to get into it. Plus, I’ve been staying up too late playing XCOM, and that’s not doing wonders for whatever my sleeping problem is.

 Anyhow. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Nothing incredibly special, they are what they are. Between the APW, my internet being shoddy and that aforementioned Dumbass has not excited the little grey cells. I did dig into new-to-me (post-2003 or so) Motörhead and AC/DC albums. That was sort of interesting, since they’re all pretty decent. Particularly the Motörhead ones, Lemmy and the boys had polished that into a well-oiled machine the last 20 or so years. Saturday was just me being terribly interested in my own navel and wallowing in my own insecurities.

 As for the Dumbness, well… it’s really nothing new. The Bernie Sanders dead-enders get more and more ridiculous and dismissible, while at the same time, the idea of Joe Biden as the 46th President of the United States of America gets more and more depressing.

 I’m getting heavy 2004 vibes from all of this. A godawful Republican president with a near-religious fanatical Base, an uninspiring Democratic candidate that promises a “return to normal” which got us here in the first place, and a “progressive” movement more interested in nursing its grievances and smelling its own farts than having to actually put in the work for the world they want. Y’all apparently don’t remember, but that didn’t work out well.

 I guess that’s what’s bothering me the most, that we as a culture have not only forgotten the lessons of history, we’re actively dismissive of them. If anyone ever asks me what’s a good book to read about how the U.S. electoral process works – and very few do, admittedly – I suggest Hunter Thompson’s Fear & Loathing On The Campaign Trail, ’72. Not only does the Good Doctor do an entertaining Deep Dive in the process which hasn’t changed much in the past 40 years, that particular election was an extremely heavy one.

 Richard Nixon. Vietnam. A fractured Democratic party and an even more fractured base. Generational conflict that seems to be insurmountable. Tell me this all doesn’t sound familiar. I’m almost scared to ponder just who our George Wallace will turn out to be. We not only learned nothing from 2004, we hadn’t learned anything from 1972 by 2004. Walter Mondale’s stomping in 1984 was my first free taste of politics, and maybe there was a progressive candidate – Jesse Jackson, I reckon – that went ignored, but I doubt we played close enough attention.

 The other thing that’s bugging me is the “reopening” of American kicked into high gear this week, even though we’re nowhere close to any wisdom over COVID-19 much less a vaccine than we were the first of March. It’s by the sheerest of luck that we didn’t top 100,000 deaths this weekend, and it’s unsettling how many people just don’t give a shit.

 There’s been a video of a big party at the Lake of the Ozarks that has been floating around. I’m not going to lie, even if we weren’t in the middle of a world-wide pandemic, looks unhygienic as an outhouse in a cholera colony. Seriously, look at that. Would you want to be in that pool? Are you sure that none of those assholes is going to pee without getting out of the water? Then you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

 And maybe I’m overreacting, and nothing drastic will happen. I’m not surprised at the callousness of far too many of Our Fellow Americans, as depressing as it is to nevertheless get the occasional reminder. I’m not really surprised at how quickly we all jump when the Bosses of the world tell us to whenever they want a new vacation home or abortion for their mistress. Time will tell how it will all wash out, and it may just be my cynicism talking, but I really don’t think we’ll collectively be better off when we come out the other end.

 In any event, that’s the Word Count. Tomorrow starts a new weekend, God help us all. Hang in there, neighbors.

 

 

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