Day: February 23, 2018

Not the brightest morning. It behooves me to think of how depressing this blog has become over the past year or so. No, I cannot entirely blame Trump. He sure didn’t help though.

I don’t have a lot to say, so I will rattle off…

Some Thoughts:

1. I’d hoped my general ennui would pass following the blog and a decent night of rest. No such luck. If anything it clings to me like sweat.
2. Dad fail this morning. I didn’t finish the laundry last night and now there are no pants. The kids will miss their morning practice, but with any fortune they will get to the bus stop okay.
3. Jarvis Landry ought to be a Giant. That would make the team incredibly attractive to future Qbs. We are talking about 4 legitimate receiving threats that require top level coverage. Add a banger of an RB and a decent line… I see big things happening for the G-men offense for years to come.
4.  Desert Nights, Rising Stars Writing Conference is in Phoenix this weekend. Should be pretty sweet.
5. A sheriff’s deputy waited outside the school for backup during the Parkland shooting. Why? Because he was scared. He wanted backup. He wanted someone else in there with him, because he didn’t have a clear understanding of the situation. This is a trained police officer who is paid to do exactly this job. He didn’t go in, but a lot of Americans think that an armed school teacher is going to stop a gunman with an assault rifle. Get real, people.
6. The cop was fired. How long before the blame shifts to him? That is one of the many reasons I oppose arming teachers. It takes the blame off the guns (again) and points the finger at teachers. Now we have to be trained gunman as well? Child, please.
7. Lets not forget that arming a teacher in an environment like that could eventually lead to a teacher overreacting to a threat from a kid. Just saying… We train cops not to be bad apples and many still are that or just plain scared. Underpaid and overworked teachers who have basically no recourse to deal with undisciplined children might snap too. Or at the very least threaten. Then what? Robot sentries?
8. Yeah, I’m not on top of my game…

You might mistake this as a rant. You might think I am angry and want to spread that anger like the wide black wings of a raven and cast darkness on anyone who creeps near my peculiar corner of the internet. I’m not angry. I’m sad. I’m not venting or ranting. I’m crying your pardon.

A lot has happened over the past week or so to make me world weary. I listened to a woman talk about how she finally feels safe because Trump is president. I read about people who are convinced the kids organizing after the recent school shootings are actors. I’ve watched the lowest and most awful segments of American culture rise to power and become the cadre of leadership driving the conversation in nearly every sector. I watch and I am entirely powerless.

I cry your pardon.

I simply have no understanding of how to fight back. I don’t even know that ‘fight’ is the proper word to use. I’ve been so beaten down by this finely tuned false reality that I am starting to believe that the majority of people really feel this way–that a river of stereotypes have slid down our throat and now we know nothing but the worst version of diversity. We know and we don’t care enough to do anything about it.

I cry our pardon.

We let this thing get away from us. The cyclic momentum seen in the Obama election, in Woodstock, and many many cycles before ended abruptly and the Yang rose to claim what the Ying could not hold. We are indeed behaving like the worst versions of ourselves and justifying it by allowing our leadership to behave in the most horrible way. We are victims of Russian social distortion not because they are so technologically savvy, but because we are so broken and misguided that we search for leadership without even looking to see if what they say or if they themselves are true. We are more interested in selfishly hearing our opinions propped up and justified than we are in having conversations that could possibly change our minds. Why change our minds when doing so has become equated with a loss in a zero sum game in a world where we can never be the losers.

So, I cry pardon. We are lost and we don’t know when we will be found again.