This morning I got up, made jumping java, and decided to get back in bed, actually in a heidi bed, because I curl up on the couch bed now, since my primary bed went to the big mattress ranch in the sky. I’m trying to live long and prosper, proper, product of my enviolent, by shrimping on heat, which is easy if I stay under covers, a dog in a blanket, a cupboard-up shivery timbers. Which begs (arf?) the question, wood it dampen thy love for me to ash for $7/month? Weld, think on’t— I am gibbon you fair warming. Seams when I givit away, peoples get the idea it’s nod worth the fundies… I do beg to differ! Bud if you’re as innocent of income as I am at this pointing time, I can shirley bend.
So anyway, I’m city there, early todae, all cozified, morning wonderful, with a hot cuppa jo warming my pause, lookin’ out over my minions (birdies, duckies, and sometimes, squirrels)… I’ve been reading, finalment, RFK Jr.’s book about Little Rat Bastard Psycho Prince Tony, and while I had a general hoverview of his Nasti doings, I am still breakable in my shock to get de tails, meta tails, biggo bone-breaking tails… Breath-stakingly horrific. Mind-blendingly vile. Beyond-the-prayer EVIL… I’ve fished seven chaptern now, and so it needs a rest lest I defile my sheet.
I looked out the windy to see two blow-tails, rather, squirrels, in the tree, trying to eek! out a living from the suet feeder, and nearly at duel about who was going to eat some—FIRST— they did end up sharon. I fot about getting up and just opening the door, to watch them beat a re-treat, but my coziness talked me down… Besides, I rather felt sorry for them, being real, live, actual rodentia, and not the human kind like King Tony. And it was fun to watch them. But in the end, they were not fattened; the cage-like thing that holds the suet was in denial. They left, and the birdies returned.
But their scuffuffle in trying to get some food made me think about what we bipeds might go through before we bring on the New Age… I thot about crowds, and starvings fighting over crumbs…kinda like now, only far skinnier. Then I thot about that other psycho, Bilge Gapes, pardner and accompliant of King Toony. Bilge axually lives not far away from me, on 40 acres with a $127M hideout. I thot about how most of their flabulous wealth comes from OUR TAXIS, wealth used to cheat us, to end us, and lots of other past folks, here and over there, many of glorious colors hated by these psycho freaks… Wealth used by snide killers who want every man, woman, and child poked and nooooo problem if it kills us all… It’s too much to even ponder long.
The absolute lack of remorse, guilt, not even a tingle of concern about others’ deaths, even the deaths and damage of babies… I know that around here, there are LOTS of gunters. We have many shootables. I am not in favor of capital punishment, and assertingly not in favor of vigilante adjusters… but it is tempting. It is most definitely tempting. The bottom line is, below, but also: We need a New Age of Far Better.
Okay, here’s a bit of poultry to ease us back out of here…
Foraging
I’m foraging for a bit of string
To tie my life together
It only takes a speck of dust to make you close your eyes
I keep sneezing from all the peppery things I say...
There is time that was
And time that will be
And time of the here immediacy
There are people past
And people to be
And now there is you and me
What better chance
To show who we are?
What better time
To open the door?
Stream of mindset
Broken glass
We make our decisions
Based on the past