Nobody has asked me what happened; but, here’s my answer anyway. If you have trouble grokking my response don’t feel deflated. The language I’ve used here in crafting my answer was constrained to the discrete set of paintings I printed before I stopped wanting to paint anymore.
Blink and you might miss the yellow wave of privileged, bleeding hearts abandoning those preyed upon by the best propagandic tool since the advent of print, the bleeders not privileged enough to ride along, and, here’s the kicker, the very folks for whom their hearts have supposedly bled (I can only imagine feeling hopelessly abandoned) just when they most need a promise to mean something.
Bubble merge outreach would do well to include visual pallet cleansers and any other available resource to reset lizard logic centers as they take the wheel (those reaching out shall already need to be immunized against lizard driving, two lizards driving down the same road will always crash).
If this 💩 ain’t obvious by now, I suppose it never shall be.
We are sitting at something close to 53/47 as we near the home stretch. How quickly races are called next month, in combination with how representative the turnout, shall be the two violence modifiers in our equation (since y’all are no closer to diagnosing (and subsequently treating) our dual reality democracy than y’all were four years ago).
Score an assassination attempt for the post-debate bed wetters, I guess, who still think we’re polling reality and have panicked some patriotically painted person into thinking our Tree of Liberty needed refreshing when there is already someone manning the sprinklers they keep telling to go home.
Side note: If y’all fuck this up now, I am rechristening the War of the Bubbles. Its new name shall be the War of the Bed Wetters
I mean… here comes two cents worth of priceless to be layed face down upon the pavement and passively dismissed by disinterested eyes … 2024 shall see the first US election since I became voter eligible (1996) to boast the following characteristics:
where voting against one’s own interests carries the following characteristics, itself, for the first time since I became voter eligible:
Y'all's reaction to this letter captures every scrap of dumbf$&k we've set loose in progressive society. Incorrectly ascribing entirely where partially ought to reside is a common occurrence when speaking from a position of bias. Antisemitism, huh. I am so fucking tired of being an island.
What follows is the progress made on the rewrite of an essay from February 2021 that, once completed, shall comprise the book explaining all the sh$t some other f$&ker really oughta have figured out by now. Be better American intellectuals.
Honestly, I haven't a clue why, in February of last year, I found myself pondering the web of dragon mythology that so ensnares the imagination of man. Of how the machinations of my mind materialized the path it would then travel, I've an even clumsier grasp. I believe there is something significant to be found within the folds of fumbled expression held by the essay I had composed. Now, a year later (finding myself in possession of more diversely and formidably equipped faculties), I shall recompose its art and prose, hoping to attain a composition that more capably communicates that which I have to say. It shall begin with a declaration. It shall end with an appeal. Two waypoints shall lie between the beginning and the ending. With a little luck, journey's end shall bring clarity to the both of us as to how and why the path was chosen.
In the event I never finish the rewrite, this is the paper I found last year providing the scientific explanation behind an answer I'd already deduced simply by observing y'all's shocked-silliness by post-second-impeachment-trial Mitch (who said exactly what I'd anticipated him saying).
Getting your goat is easy. All I need is a passion hook.
Don't let the news rags fool you, democracy does not, in fact, die in darkness. Democracy dies a very slow death, in broad daylight, from a thousand paper cuts.
Democracy dies in darkness
It also dies in the light. The lux value of the overall lighting sitch is f$&king irrelevant.
Without a common reality with discernible truths, there can be no civil discourse.
Without such discourse, common ground lay out of reach.
Democracy dies when that last scrap of land is fractured, when that bifurcating wall rises, inducing tribal isolation, and new mission statements are issued.
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
Wrong.
Fuck around and find out.
The f$&kers inside my television set seem fixated on polling data. Without capturing the associated reality bubble data, I find these polls kinda useless. I've assembled six questions that, should these little sh$ts conducting these polls add them, would append this additional demographic.
The collected posts from last Tuesday morning sparked by catching @mattklewis' segment on #MorningJoe. Each begins with the word "because" and answers, in part, the question "why are we divided?"
Hi, Ben. I'm kinda done investing in politics-as-usual politicians incapable of seeing the forest through the trees, unwilling to digest the requisite perspective for grokking the rot out of which our little dual reality democracy hath sprung, choosing instead to squint their eyes 'til the screw looks enough like a nail.
They call themselves "pro-life", much like Radio Shack used to call it's equipment "Realistic", instead of "Real"...
It's a tribal thing … and we'll continue to be ruled by the tribal whims of an old white regime desperately clinging to minority rule on the eve of a minority majority … as we fixate on the beating of our own drum … the shadows dancing on the periphery of our sight casting beastly shapes … shapes never fully in focus … always just enough blur to allow the mind to play tricks.
The problem is that they'll never admit they were conned. Their egos won't let them admit they were fooled, so they'll keep defending him.
Rigidity can be overcome … not for all … but for enough.
The thing is … very few seem to be actively attempting to reach those within grasp.
In case anyone is confused as to why 2021 force fed you the definition of critical race theory.
In case anyone is confused as to why the whitewashing has been cranked up to eleven and white nationalism has been mainstreamed.
For f$&ks sake, Chuck Todd (and f$&king eevvveerrrryyyybody else holed up in the Beltway … none of you politics-as-usual f$&kers seem to understand the following point), Biden did not unite a coalition composed of all-of-the-f$&king-left and anti-Trump-conservatives. WE F$&KING… UNITED… OURSELVES… (f$&king rapidly I might add) when we suddenly found ourselves shoulder to shoulder standing upon what once was a solitary plane of reality now under assault from an unfamiliar foe firmly entrenched deep within the belly of a full-on-f$&king-fabricated reality … a reality jockeying for position as we race towards our mergeable moment (as sustaining two fully oppositional realities is a short term affair, one shall surely swallow up the other) … winner take all.
An idea under construction
Progress is a slow burn. An appreciable amount of time must pass before the benefits of legislative change may be felt by the heart of the populace. For all but our most enthusiastic beltway fanboys (and fangirls), the passing of time and the prevalence of opposition propaganda obfuscates the link between cause and effect. The connection between good governance and the people’s prosperity becomes muted.
While the beltway press, the pundits, the influencers, the organizers, and the cogs that compose the political machinery at large desperately cling to those norms and precedents with which order has so long been coaxed from chaos, the unprecedented leaves breadcrumbs for the fresh-eyed to trace towards the trailhead, near the clearing within which it has planted itself openly as invitation for observation.