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The Sound Of One Hand Slapping

Tell me, should the dog’s bone be dropped from atop a couch onto the hardwood floor, BUT the downstairs neighbor isn’t home to hear it, does it still make a noise? Yes. It is, in fact, still cacophonous AF.

Alternatively, what is the sound of one hand slapping? The proposed crack duality of dueling outcomes? I’d rather just act casually rude to some drunken freshmen. My suggestion would be asking plus-sized ladies if the novel “Push” by Sapphire was based off of their lives. I jest of course. There’s never an excuse for a lack of manners!

I’ve recently passed what I’ve long considered as the “Kill Bill” threshold in regard to the modern political atmosphere. For the first five to fifteen minutes of the aforementioned title you may perceive the scenes and motif as being somewhat violent. It is unquestionably one of the bloodier films I’ve taken in over the years. Once that time constraint has been eclipsed however you cease to remark the disemboweling thrusts and eye-gouging as being harsh as it swiftly internalizes and thereby desensitizes your overall psyche. Donald is the “Kill Bill” of presidencies. Decapitating, mostly himself and vulnerable minorities, so frequently, it’s no longer near as seemingly disturbing.

Because of that, it has been with an intense feeling of Schadenfreude I’ve enjoyed the most recent media coverage. The Enquirer’s “betrayal”, Omarosa’s (don’t get me wrong she’s also a horrific dumpster-human but it’s tougher to smell with the “national garbage strike” passing the 2-year mark) revenge, the illegitimate child, Manafort and Cohen’s sentences even as Mueller continues tightening his noose- no doubt fashioned from one of the bloviating idiot’s comically overlong neckties.

It is naturally counter intuitive to perceive the present as the past but axiomatically one matures into the other, moment by moment, in perpetuity. We are living in a time that will be of focal interest historically. Doctoral theses will be written on, high school ISU presentations will wax poetic naively about and first-generation immigrant children will be told to eat their vegetables lest the Evil Pumpkin Monster come for you and your family. He eats you up and vomits children out in prison and their parents back in Mexico. That IS kind of terrifying even as an abstract concept for a mournfully less-theoretical reality.

Stand firm noble crusaders, (modern interpretation, original crusaders wanton slaughterers to a disheatending scale), the hopeful termination of anti-intellectualism is hardly nigh, and nighly hard.

Miriam-Webster proposes that “nighly” is indeed a word. Take it up with them, or T-Swift… haters.

Happy Trails and Wagging Tails!

-Alex Blaikie


 

 

 

Categories: original writing

Tagged as:

dreadpoetssobriety

A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.

8 replies

  1. Good post.
    10 points for the correct spelling of “Schadenfreude.”
    Minus 10 points for “Miriam-Webster” which should be “Merriam-Webster.”
    So you come out even.
    Yay! 😀
    Yeah, yeah, I’m a bitch. But I’m a 72-year-old bitch, so you have to respect me as an elder of the tribe.

    Liked by 1 person

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