It seems like I'm not getting much written and posted these days. There are a lot of things I would like to write about, like the bullying and mostly brain-dead U.S. customs agents and their insolent and indolent ways. They chew their wads of gum, move as slowly as humanly possible, and take every opportunity to insult their masters. But they, like most government employees, don't see the taxpayer who pays their salaries as their master. No, quite the contrary. They make it very clear that they are in charge and like the sadists many of them must be, enjoy cracking their whips. Why do people put up with this stuff?
Oops. I wasn't going to write about that. It just slipped out.
I also want to write about idiots, but can't seem to get the time. What idiots? Anyone who climbs on board any cause of the day and, without giving it an original thought, and often without even having the capacity for an original thought, accepts it as gospel and, in fact, becomes quite evangelical about the thing. Please spare me.
Crap. I wasn't going to write about that either. What has gotten into me?
It's a crazy world. Everything seems to be topsy-turvy. In one of Robert A. Heinlein's books, he describes a sort of crazy season during which nothing is as it should be and hardly anyone acts as he should. That is the way the world strikes me at this moment. Hell, that is the way the world has seemed to me for years. By the way, if you know which Heinlein book it is that I am thinking of here, please let me know. I'd like to dig it out and read it again.
I speak with my son about the state of the world sometimes and take care to remind him that we live charmed lives. We have nothing to complain about. Everything is wonderful, we can do what we want, when we want, with scarcely anything to worry about. Until we we leave home, of course, then there is lots to worry about. Haters and malcontents are everywhere, looking for any excuse or opportunity to let their demons out and create some mischief. Human life means nothing to them. Reality means nothing to them. Logic means nothing to them. Every perceived injustice that rattles around in what passes for a brain in these people is your fault, or mine.
It's not true of course. Have you personally done anything to piss these people off? I haven't, unless of course they don't like to be reminded that they themselves are their own worst enemies. The innocent individuals who die needlessly while these misfits spread their consuming hatred haven't done anything to deserve their fate. And yet the slaughter goes on. And still the establishment media encourages us to be more accommodating, more compliant, more forgiving, because, you see, we are all somehow at fault for every ill in the world. How that can be, or why it should be so, is a mystery to me.
I am not at fault for these things and neither are you. I am sick of being accommodating. I want to be left alone. And I want you to be left alone too. I want everybody to mind their own business, take care of their own family, and to stop whining and bitching about everything.
So, there it is. My little diatribe for the day. It just bubbled to the surface and had to be written down. I couldn't help it. It's not my fault.
Sorry. I just couldn't write that last sentence with a straight face. Of course it is my fault. Everything I say and do is my responsibility. Everything you say and do is your responsibility. I have never been a slave-owner, didn't take part in the crusades, treat women and minorities as equals, and have been told at least once that I was a nice guy, so I won't take any blame for anything in which I have not personally taken part. But I do stand by my words, and I do think seriously about things, and wish that all the trouble-makers in the world would do so as well.
And that, my friends, is what happens when I read the daily news.