May 31, 2020

Pentecost.

Some weeding, much contemplation of the horrific state of things. Our president has no thought but for himself, so things fall apart around him. The police riot. The police are buccaneers and murderers and fight hard for the right to remain so.  Provocateurs break windows and set fires, hoping. . . what? America is at a worse point than I could have imagined at any other time. The worst American in all history is our President. A close runner-up is majority leader in the Senate. Cops are automata of arrogant violence. Racists feel empowered to drag themselves out of the ground where several decades of civility had buried them. I look around for people who are faithful to their task, and of course there are some, but they aren’t making the evening news. Yet, was it not the most beautiful day?