

Sometimes I think I’ve accepted the finality of the future we have in store, and then sometimes I get really irate and want to go scream at the deniers I know. It’s a weird balance. How do you mourn the future? Real question, my therapist is struggling with it too.






And there’s every chance they’ll continue to steal power, steal the elections, maintain control of the most powerfully diminishing country on Earth. So it doesn’t matter how much of the world hates them, at least to those of us trapped under them. The patients are running the asylum, they’ve shot the guards, and life goes on.