I thought I'd take a minute to check in, see how folks are doing. I've been laying low for quite a while for lots of reasons, mostly involving bad health. It's been tough, especially given the daily insults we're facing from the Tarheel Taliban. And with the Uncle Tom Robinson shit-storm brewing, there's no telling how much evil is on the way. Add in a toxic stain of gerrymandering and we seem to be in for the very worst.
We've been under attack by robots for several hours, receiving hundreds of spam posts and logging hundreds of new (robot) users. I'm worn out from fighting them and have to go do some work now. Sorry to leave you with whatever shows up.
I'm sure there's a way to use tech to stop this, but I don't know how to do it.
I'm a graduate of the UNC School of Journalism, having gotten my degree in the early 80s. Back then, we were proud of our position as a national leader with a fabulous faculty and a great reputation. That was then.
If you think Democrats and progressives suck at messaging, you won't get any argument from me. I can't tell you the number of opportunities we've missed over the years. The whole "Defund the Police" fiasco is just the latest example of failing to get the basics of language and branding right. Nobody's in charge, and a lot of stupid stuff happens.
Of all the pressing questions facing the good citizens of North Carolina, it's hard to imagine that this most crushing intrusion into a person's very own identity would somehow rise to the top of the list of issues on the minds of the two most powerful men in our legislature. But there it is. Again.
I got into a gentle argument with a born-again sister the other day. She was foolish enough to claim exalted status by virtue of having been baptized at the tender age of twelve, which meant nothing to me. My own sacred conversion happened when I was ten, dunked in the chlorinated baptismal pool behind the pulpit at the Second First Baptist Church in Newport News, Virginia. Under the watchful eye of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, my being born again was witnessed by a huge congregation of foot-stomping, hallelujah-singing racists, not a single black person in sight.
We knew it was bad,
those miserable years
of mindless trump of shame.
But without a shred of sanity on the lying right
there was nothing we could do
to stop the reckless decline
who did what they did
again and again
simply because they could.
There will always be a Flat Earth Society dedicated to disagreeing with conventional and scientific wisdom. You say up, I say down. The motivation lies in some perverse sense of pride. Of disagreeing with authority.
I think that way myself sometimes. I know flossing is good for me, for example, which is why I skip doing it so often. You're not the boss of me. We're seeing a lot of that lately.
Trump, enabled by a handful of Republican traitors, has taken the final step on the road to insurrection. Dipshits like Richard Hudson, Maddie Cawthorn and senile Virginia Foxx all deserve fates worse than death. Here's hoping they all rot in hell.
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