Early in the morning can be a most-depressing place, at least viewing the state of the US, the world and my own self.
Watching the news for insomniacs on ABC, the images float past of nothing but cow shit at best — from Jerry Sandusky to Bashar al-Assad, lying, perverted assholes, shitheads in their own particular way with the earth worse off because they even exist.
And Mitt Romney — why the living shit does that guy open that hole in his face?
And on last Sunday’s 60 Minutes fiasco/interview with arrogant nit-twit Leon Panetta, Glenn Greenwald writes: Early in the interview, Pelley asked Panetta: â€œin how many countries are we currently engaged in a shooting war?â€ After a long pause, Panetta replied: â€œitâ€™s a good question. Iâ€™ll have to stop and think about that,â€ followed by hearty laughter.
Such caused John Cole at Balloon Juice to most-rightly proclaim: Weâ€™re so fucked as a nation.
(Illustration found here).
The nasty, insider snickering between Panetta and CBS’ Scott Pelley is not all that funny to maybe several million people all over the globe, people who have been pushed into the cross-hairs of politics via maybe a drone or two, just by being in the way-wrong place by being born.
So funny, we can’t figure out where the US is killing other people — hahahahaha…
Rolling out of bed much-earlier this morning than usual (which is way-too-early), I was already a sad sack by the time my feet hit the floor — suffering from some form of insomnia, I have trouble getting any kind of decent sleep at night and make up the difference with a prolonged nap in the afternoon when I get off work.
And customers at the liquor store I manage are also feeling the pangs of sorrow — mournful stories all day long from no money to no time to no sense to life at all.
A lot of their emotional shit just wears me out, and at the end of the day a nap is near-about required to keep the hounds of horror at bay — but sometimes a leave-the-scene via sleep doesn’t help.
And what’s even way-way worse is that those people for the most part haven’t a clue to how bad everything really is and how terrible, awful the future, on which if one ponders too much, would drive one into a personal Twilight Zone, where there’s no escape.
And on top of all that, I’ve been hooked on Train’s “Hey Soul Sister” (found here), which is so lovely, and a wonderful ode to romance, but has somehow become so freakin’ sad.
These thoughts were gathered up in a neat pile via some disturbing words from a speech delivered in 1978 by Phillip K. Dick, which sounds way-normal today:
But the problem is a real one, not a mere intellectual game.
Because today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groupsâ€”and the electronic hardware exists by which to deliver these pseudo-worlds right into the heads of the reader, the viewer, the listener.
Sometimes when I watch my eleven-year-old daughter watch TV, I wonder what she is being taught.
The problem of miscuing; consider that.
A TV program produced for adults is viewed by a small child.
Half of what is said and done in the TV drama is probably misunderstood by the child.
Maybe it’s all misunderstood.
And the thing is, Just how authentic is the information anyhow, even if the child correctly understood it?
What is the relationship between the average TV situation comedy to reality?
What about the cop shows?
Cars are continually swerving out of control, crashing, and catching fire.
The police are always good and they always win.
Do not ignore that point: The police always win.
What a lesson that is.
You should not fight authority, and even if you do, you will lose.
The message here is, Be passive. Andâ€”cooperate.
If Officer Baretta asks you for information, give it to him, because Officer Beratta is a good man and to be trusted. He loves you, and you should love him.
Time is speeding up.
And to what end?
Maybe we were told that two thousand years ago.
Or maybe it wasn’t really that long ago; maybe it is a delusion that so much time has passed.
Maybe it was a week ago, or even earlier today.
Perhaps time is not only speeding up; perhaps, in addition, it is going to end.
But WTF — “Get Up Trinity! Get Up!“