End of the year

If there is anything I dislike more than Sundays it is the last day or two of the year. We are about to be treated to a review of all the disgusting developments and "news" items of the year 2007. I don't want to review all of this either sad or absurd detritus that washed up in the past year. It was bad enough the first time around. Furthermore, I'm not sure I look forward to the New Year with a great deal of optimism. More people will be losing their homes, more people will be without medical insurance, more people will die in Afghanistan and Iraq, our infrastructure will disintegrate a bit more, we will be fed more lies, and more and more women will pose claiming to have lost weight and be sexier than ever, while erections will be guaranteed, providing you don't have liver damage.

On the political front we will have to endure more pretending that we have a choice of candidates while the corporations continue to run everything behind the scenes. You can be certain we will have no chance to elect a Kucinich, and most probably not an Edwards or a Paul. We will probably have a choice between Hillary and Romney (two candidates guaranteed not to upset the status quo). All of the troops will not return home from either Iraq or Afghanistan, the huge international corporations will continue to haul in the big, big bucks, and, in fact, very little will change (even if Obama gets elected which I doubt will happen- he's black, you know, or at least part black - it only takes a touch of black blood to make you black). Hillary is a woman, of course, but she's a corporate woman and the next best thing to a Brafia (if not a Brafia). Bush/Cheney will continue to escape even any minimul accountability for their multiple war crimes and stomping all over the Constitution.

I know I sound terrible and my pessimism is unbearable. Convince me that I am wrong. Give me even a semblance of hope for this poor, lost nation. Hold me and tell me things are going to be okay. Where is my mother when I need her so? I feel like I am trapped in a culture of the absurd. In short, "Drop kick me Jesus, through the goal posts of life."

I just finished a fine book, When Nietszche Wept, by a Psychiarist at Stanford, Irvin Yolum (I think that's his right name). A very clever fictional account of an obsession and the beginnings of Psychoanalysis. I recommend it. However, I'm certain if Nietszche were alive at the moment he'd be weeping much more copiously.

I still don't have my computer back. I miss it. It's like a friend. At least it doesn't rip up the furniture or kill the birds like my other three more furry friends. Here at Sandhill we continue to have snow, cold, and ice. We look forward to the Iowa caucuses although I could not tell you why (I guess there is just nothing else to do this time of year). Be of good cheer (I dare you).

LKBIQ:
"Every American ought to have the right to be treated as he would wish to be treated, as one would wish his children to be treated. This is not the case."
John F. Kennedy