Thursday, May 17, 2007

Coms Are Black

There's just a lot of things that I don't want to say. I don't want to talk about my nausea. Two nights in a row. Kept me awake for five hours, night before last. Better now, but what was that about? Some bad nuts? E coli? Existential angst? I thought I was above that sort of thing. I don't want to talk about it.

Emotions. I've been saying too much. Feeling a bit exposed. A little withdrawal is only to be expected. And honestly, doesn't it seem to you that I cut pretty close to the bone, sometimes? I don't even know you, and look at what I say. Well, maybe I say it because I don't know you. You don't know me either, though. Don't let my honesty fool you. My son is taking a college writing course, and he's been sending me his efforts for my input. He mentioned that he'd stopped by my wonderful blog -- Forgotten Prophets? ... maybe you've heard of it? That made me a little uncomfortable, because I don't want him to worry. That's what I mean, when I say you don't know me. The tone, for all its absurdity, can be dark, here. But I'm not a miserable person. Just too introspective. Idiotropic. This is where I work out a few themes -- it can create an imbalanced picture. But I don't want to talk about it.

I'm just staying away from politics. Why bother? This immigration thing -- I mean, this illegal immigration thing ... I just turn it off when they start talking about it. I don't want to hear it. Does it really matter? It's just idealism -- opinions about how things ought to be. What the hell is justice anyway? A fairytale. Make believe. You know what we call believing things that aren't true. Insanity. Harsh? Yes. But if not insanity, then certainly delusion. That is certainly an apt word. So laws about how things ought to be are just a waste of time. Laws are about punishment. That's the only reality they have. What punishment is there for illegal immigration? We really mean it this time. Positively absolutely no more amnesties, after this one. Look it up on our website -- it's right there in black and white. Grr. Aha! That's the difference between this one and Reagan's. In those olden days, there was no internet for prospective illegals to log on and find out they'd missed the illegal-to-legal deadline. This time it'll work fer sher. But I don't want to talk about it.

So anyway. Got an email today from my wonderful son. It was short. He had to interrupt it. "OK. Just got word that coms are black. I'll talk to you in a few days." A bit jarring. Some emergency? I don't know. Baghdad isn't the safest urban region on the planet. Maybe you didn't know that. Obviously you wouldn't be listening to any of the major news outlets, which delight in keeping a body count. Funny, isn't it, how during the Vietnam era it was the government that loved inflated figures. Now it's the Lefty media. Sinister Medea, disloyal to her children -- she slays them -- she lays out the bodies for public display. What, you think the media isn't responsible? Consult the annals of the aforementioned Vietnam Conflict. Our former enemies have informed us of the comfort and encouragement they derived from the US media. Fuel to the flames. Such is the bonfire in which my son finds himself. Coms are black.


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