Thursday August 5
Watched a few episodes of an old sitcom earlier today, about a doctor who's constantly
getting pissed off at what he perceives as the idiocy of those who share the world around
him. This show was on several decades ago; at the time, that character was an outlier,
an oddball, a crank. Now he's Everyman.
Breena came into the store yesterday. We talked a little about our plans for
retirement – mine still very vague. Breena on the other hand says she plans to
at 65. I said that was close enough to be a real light at the end of the tunnel.
She muttered something about,
yeah, so long as something doesn't happen before then,
it does sometimes. I don't know what that meant, and the scene at the store
was too hectic to ask. But we're having lunch next week; I'll ask her then.
It's funny, I'd been thinking that one question I'd like to ask her next time we met was
her opinion on what happens to us after death. I don't think we've ever talked about it
Friday August 21
I suppose the truth is I no longer have the energy, the stamina, to power my will.
I've exhausted myself – what else have I left to say? How do I find the motivation
to say it? Well, look outward always –
The Democratic Convention just wrapped up. I watched not one moment of it, not even
the highlights. I'm thoroughly disgusted with the Democratic Party and its disdain
– at every turn it's been shown to us – for Progressives. I'm disgusted with
Obama for the way he maneuvered behind the scenes to help rig the Democratic primaries.
I'm disgusted by the Party's decision to throw all its weight behind Corporate Democrats.
I'm chilled by the whole
get back to normalcy campaign. What will be needed
after Trump, I feel certain, is an entirely new vision – and really, an entirely new
value system. Only the Progressive wing of the Democratic Party has that to offer –
and they're being shut out. Me, I plan to do a write-in for Bernie Sanders, then leave
the Party and register as an Independent.
Breena by the way has Lyme disease – that's what she was referring to the other day.
It looks like it was diagnosed early enough that a course of antibiotics should eradicate
it. Still, it took her by surprise. It always does, when our bodies suddenly
betray us. It did my mother too, with regard to her back.
And what does Breena think happens to us after we die? She doesn't know. It will
come as another surprise – but a blank one, at the moment.
I think one of the worst sounds in the world is the sound of the combustible engine, that
growl, that whine. Sends little shockwaves up my spine whenever I notice it; and it's
everywhere. Cars, trucks, lawnmowers, chainsaws, buzz saws, motorcycles . . .
Echoing off the surrounding houses, the neighbor's argument
Saturday August 22
Cricket that sang in the corner now played with by the cat