And it's not because it's my birthday. That has very little to do with my current mood. I'm in this headspace because of all the awful going on in this country right now and our seeming inability to remove the cancer that's metastasizing from from the White House.
It seems COVID-19 and the very reasonable recommendations about staying home, closing non-essential businesses, and wearing masks and practicing social distancing when you do have to go out have brought out the absolute worst in a certain (i.e. racist, Trump rimming, MAGA-hat-wearing) portion of the population.
My heart goes out to my non-white brothers and sisters who are bearing the brunt of this behavior. It's as if the United States is finally vomiting up 244 years of suppressed hate, and instead of it blocking out the sun as it did in the I Am The Night—Color Me Black episode of The Twilight Zone from 1961, the country—or at least Minneapolis—is going up in flames. I have feared all along it will take just one more incident to touch off a conflagration that will consume this country like none seen in our lifetimes. And George Floyd's murder seems to be the spark thrown into that dry tinder.
And you know what? I say burn it to the ground. The horseshit treatment of minorities has gone on more than long enough. It needs to be stopped, by any means necessary. Being nice and playing fair only leads to genocide. Racists are bullies just like Trump, and the only way to put them in their place is to smack them back into the 1860s where they belong.
I fear that even if Minneapolis does not spread to the rest of the country, the rage of the minority Reich Wing when Trump is removed from office will reignite a whole new set of fires because you know that after months of Citrus Calignula's sowing seeds that the election will be rigged or the results illegitimate when he loses that his followers will not acquiesce to a peaceful transfer of power. He is, after all, their GOD.
And regarding the Orange Russian Wig Stand's threats to shut down his Twitter account? Be serious. Trump cut off his only conduit to his brain-dead sheep? Oh PLEASE.
And his promise to muzzle social media? BRING IT, BITCH.