Sunday Evenings

Sunday evenings always seem to have its own unique set of paranoia that presents fear, dread, exhaustion, over-thinking and looking for the fountain of youth…which often times tastes just like vodka, to take out the sting of facing another week among the deranged.

It can be the dread of the week ahead, whether it be at school, work, or as is the case of this writer, another week of being retired – wondering how long before some type of assisted living facility will be my new home.

But this particular week ahead in the richest country in the world – why, it’s the motherlode of all weeks (so we’re told by the shysters in government and their shyster underlings in the media) –  for it’s an election week, where the promises of clowns running to occupy an office that allows six figure salaries to be transformed into millions in the next couple of years – along with their promises on the campaign trail never to be realized – is the latest guano that Americans are expected the sniff deeply of – only to realize a few months down the road that another election cycle has come and gone and Washington still sends our sons and daughters to fight their wars that profit their buddies in the military industrial complex of corporations – still ignores its citizens basic needs, still punts on the possibilities of making life better for the poor, the homeless, or even the vanishing middle class.

On Sunday evenings we contemplate the idiocy we will be facing in the week ahead. And it’s not facing the idiocy we create, but the psychotic idiocy of those in charge that we continue to allow to be the insanity-de-jour we start our week with.

We pay closer attention to the surreal shyte coming through our hand held radiation devices with each day. We roll our eyes with each incoming text, clutching our pearls, hoping that the melodrama of BS enfolding before our eyes won’t be as bad as we fear. Sadly, what we face today won’t be the pleasant problems that Doris Day and Rock Hudson faced during their days back in the glorious 60’s – no, our problems here in the richest country of the world, in this modern era of f**kery will be casting our hopes of a better life for the poor, for the forgotten, for ourselves, for the uninsured, for our forgotten veteran’s, for the innocents that Washington sends out to kill innocents in sovereign nations – upon a caste of demons who will never care, never shed a tear, nor caste a glance of kindness in the direction of the suffering the everyday man, woman or other.

The charlatans of the modern era, whether they be of the left, right or somewhere in between – the nutjobs who purport to maintain the status quo – the insanity that has brought us to the state of where we are – for their sake… please remember to vote and allow the insanity to continue.

“Every election is a sort of advance auction sale of stolen goods.” – HL Mencken


Tonight’s musical offering:

Vince Guaraldi Trio performing “Christmas Time Is Here”


Photo credit:

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