May 16, 2020

Russian liturgy on the CD. Bored today, though I did good work on what is now called The Nurseryman’s Wedding. I’m going to need to find something more to fill the hours. The garden works on its own for a while now, and forcing writing when one is not in the vein is counterproductive.

People in time to come will not credit the degree to which a traitor and sociopath has been allowed to run rampant from the White House. I lived to see the end of the American Century. That was not among the things I wished to see, or anticipated seeing. The complicity of millions is, of course, more distressing than the pathology of one. I cannot on my own find the reason for this. We have not been taught to think of anyone but ourselves, or even that to do so is laudable. I will stand on the capitol steps with a machine gun in my hands if my whims are not honored, to the expense of all else. I will destroy education if what I already believe is not repeated slavishly in my ear. I will strike out of fear before I have even taken thought. I will uphold ignorance because it is my ignorance and therefore sweet to me. I will allow the rich to devour me because they point to someone they want me to hate more, and like a slave I do. I think maybe if a prophet should arise, but who would listen to him? The fact that he is right and they are not would infuriate the people of whom I speak. I think I could be patient like others and wait for the election, but for the first time in American history, that may not avail. If you allow the Beast to do as he has done, you will allow him to be dictator as easy as slipping down the stairs. We have allowed that already, though we hardly dare to say so. Sometimes I think it is my place to find out what to do and how to do it. Mostly, I do not. My leg is too swollen. Vodka calls from the freezer. It is the hour of evening when the thrushes make their last foray.