Chihuahuas, Redux

It’s just not getting any easier, Gentle Reader.  I voted already but it hasn’t taken the sore spot away from my chest.  The (we use the word loosely) “leadership” of this country has really led us into the tarpits, in my estimation.  We have institutionalized discrimination and inequity, and it is really hard, from where I sit, to see how things can turn out any way but badly.  Why and how the idolization of money and the supposed superiority of those who have it came to be the Main Event can be traced, we even really do know how this all happened.  But.  What is anyone going to DO?  Time is short and we really cannot keep going on in the same DUMB direction.  People can’t even quit fighting about who or what God is, for crying out loud.  Which to me is the stupidest thing to argue about:  Something that IS but we cannot intellectually KNOW.   And this, cannot sensibly dictate to another.

There are so many things, so many things.  Living in this area has proven to be a LOT more mentally challenging than I expected, for one thing.  I’ve lived in very rural areas, and in cities.  Used to an extremely diverse setting, what we have here is verging on monoculture and I had to admit this morning, after a small drama inserted itself, that I am having a really hard time with the whole thing.   I often find myself driving home behind a pickup whose owner is undoubtedly growing marijuana (about the only way anybody makes any money around here if they haven’t inherited it), has actually shot at us one evening even though we’ve never met, and who has the following legend pasted on his back window:  “LIBERALS ARE MENTALLY ILL.”  To me there is just a tee tiny bit of disconnect there but then what do I know.   Without going into an entire historical exegesis, let’s just say that generally speaking  the skin tone is practically universally the same here, with the same life experiences, the same slightly flat world horizon. I have to admit that I am very lonely.  So, there.  I’ve admitted it. Living here makes me feel like the talking dog in MASON & DIXON. So we’re having another spot of tough sledding as we wonder just what we’re going to do, and where.   As long as I can view this as an unfolding adventure, with the hope that enlightenment may occur, I can handle it.  But there are days when I can’t keep that in my sights, like today, and that old adage location, location, location, rings through my little head like a mantra.  Being, however, one of the multitudinous 99%? Houston, we have a problem. But, hope springs eternal.  We’ll land this space ship somehow, somewhere.

2 responses to this post.

  1. The danger of double-think is that one doesn’t know one has it. We have to keep that in mind when faced with the steep wall of stupid. I just try to walk around it.

    Politicians have made the technique of making their constituents work against their own best interest into an art form. But I think people are starting to wise up to it.

    The good news is that the pockets of resistence to illumination are being smothered, but they will flicker brightly before they do.


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