Darkness Before Dawn...and Other Mindfucks
Well, for some of us 2020 has yet to leave the bar, and has indulged in several more shots of the most deadly top-shelf booze it can buy...
...a lovely piece by Vicki Tidwell. It has without doubt been one fucking hell of a year, and I think every one of us can say that.
For me, 2020 has not ended, as I'm living in a state of limbo with regard to my home. Followers of my social media know that the passing of my brother Mark in December made the end of the year not a good one, but oh, did I not realize what was coming for me.
Being a homeowner means interesting responsibilities. A slow leak in a dummy chimney which I share with my rowhouse neighbor spread to my roof, and early one Saturday morning just before Xmas, my second floor ceiling blew out, resulting in water cascading down into the office/studio, the back wall, and down into my kitchen and basement.
This shit happened twice. A hastily called contractor gave me a lot of verbal, and supposedly sealed the roof, but didn't. Xmas Eve, during a rainstorm, it happened again!
All through this, a battle with insurance companies, having to move, strip and tear things down, uncertain if I would have a house left to live in, coupled with the madness of anxiety.
Adjusters, mitigators, contractors, in, out, around, and while some certainly did their best to make my situation better, others did not.
Inability to sleep due to screaming fans and dryers forced me to spend New Year's weekend in a hotel, shuttling back and forth between this place and my house, to ensure more leaks did not occur, that my cats were okay, and the madness, yes the madness.
For the first time in my life, I was shaken to the point of having to try an anti-anxiety drug, which proceeded to knock me into a state of uncomfortable weirdness, and did not let go of me for nearly two days. That shit ain't no good, I told my doctor, something else!
Needless to say, my history with anti-depression meds and other drugs is not something I want to repeat. So we got through that.
I will say, after a couple of interesting non-estimates, I got the one, and the insurance came through. The roof is repaired, the gutters replaced, and the incompetence of the previous roofers fixed. For life.
There now remains inside. The studio has been re-rigged for some use, but the ceiling, the floor, and the back wall of the kitchen need fixing. Still awaiting an estimate for that, I am...it does not end, but at least I have a semblance of a home again.
But this does not compare to the fresh hell that awaited our nation on January 6th.
At least one third of you should stop reading now.
What the fuck is it with these pigs, these entitled, coddled, childish basement dwellers, who dragged themselves from their bomb shelters, plugged their earphones into the purveyor of the four years of hate, and again, as always, went on automatic and allowed themselves to believe that the fantasy of video game violence was legal, allowed, and encouraged?
I don't give a fuck what you think. If you think the assault on our Capitol, and our democracy, our nation, our way of life was acceptable, an exercise in some kind of patriotic endeavor, and fun...FUCK YOU.
If you think that what happened, the murder of a police officer, the deaths and injuries of dozens, the destruction, the theft, the insanity, whipped up by your talk show hosts, your preachers, your god that makes everything okay by his Tweets...was wrong, but still okay, because of the principle of the thing...FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS.
Are you that person? Are you that person who, whether or not you were there, whether or not you found what happened abhorrent, wrong, sad, terrifying...but still justifiable because of your alternative facts...FUCK YOU, AND FUCK YOU, AND FUCK YOU!
This was an insurrection. This was an attempted coup. This was TREASON. That exhibition was an effort to thwart a transfer of power, legally and properly done, just because a spoiled man-child who has never been told "No" and has never had to answer to anyone had a hissy fit and fulfilled his fantasy of destroying everything, because he didn't get his way.
Nero Tweeted while the Capitol nearly burned down. Even the British did a better job in 1814 than that, and they torched the White House during a raging downpour.
He is not different than those ranting, raving, foot stamping little playground bullies who ran behind the teacher after starting a fight and getting the big, dumb kid to do his fighting for him. When that person wouldn't have it, he ran and hid, screaming, sniping, crying and howling that he is the victim, he's been put upon, and he should face no consequences for the trouble he started, and the problems he thinks he has.
He is the middle school rumor monger, the fight starter, the spitballer who defiantly puts his lower lip out at the Vice Principal and dares the school to suspend him, or he'll tell dad, and he'll be right down here to give them what for...and then, they'll sue! Oh yes they will!
The spoiled children are of all ages, protected by money, power and privilege. They are made excuses for, coddled and sheltered in their safe spaces with their money, guns, bibles, talk radio, and the knowledge that they are special because of said privilege.
If not, they take comfort in knowing that no matter how shitty their lives are, they can make their "lessers" feel even worse by putting their trust in the hands of the wealthy and powerful who seem above and beyond the law, and all wish they could be like them.
The proletariat and the workers, finally, said enough of you. While it appears the disgrace will never be enough in Washington, the scourging of their god will come soon enough. Living by a bluff does come due, as will the loans, the debts, and it won't just be someone's legs being broken. It will be much more.
For all those who put their trust in this, they now face the reality: goodbye to your jobs, your places in college, your money, your families, your friends, and in some cases, your freedom. You finally did it: you crossed the line, and broke the law in a way no one can get you out.
Enjoy your time in prison, or even better, on probation, still living in a basement, on someone's couch, or better yet, in the room you grew up in as a child. You will be broke, in debt, unable to get a place in school, a job of note, nothing. You will pay the rest of your life, and die penniless.
Was it worth it? Perhaps you should have thought of that before you did this, but then, you didn't think at all.
And what of the jealous god?
Heh. I'm sure you have nothing but excuses, copied and at the ready to paste in counterattack, but it means nothing.
We forget you. All of you. Goodbye, forever...enjoy obscurity, infamy, and the shame you will forever bear, as will your families. The sins of the child pass upwards to the parents, and down to the descendants. They will all pay for the crime you refused to believe you committed. Even as your are sentenced or condemned, or given the ass-kicking you deserve, you still may think, you did nothing wrong. But you know you did...
We suffer these truths, for worse was done in the past, and maybe in future...but our nation and our people stand for something that you could never comprehend.
Rights have yet to be wronged, but they shall come, indeed they shall.
I await the looks on your faces, when you realize what you have done, if your brains will actually permit this...and you will have to grow up, fast.
These things I will take joy in...not pride, but the joy of seeing the collective spoiled brat get taken to the woodshed, screaming and crying all the way.
Will that not be fun? I think so.