A friend writes on Facebook "there was a shooting outside our house last night. There's been a shirtless crazy man walking around our block screaming for a few days. Every day, I pick up a vast amount of trash from the yard, including syringes, liquor bottles, and burned pieces of tinfoil. I love my house and I love the area, but I am really glad we're moving in a few months."
Sounds like you have imagined San Francisco, right?
He's nearly two thousand miles away.
In the Mid-West.
My neighborhood, and much of SF, is considerably safer than that, and less problem-prone. But there are swathes of the city where I will not go. For reasons. Society has become stranger than we thought it could. Dystopian to a far greater degree.
That's not including the red states where the bad juju reigns.
Ominous banjo music is obligatory there.
The bad lands.
Over the past few days at work I saw all of the problem cases. Regulars who have issues and "needs". They are reasonably safe here in the Bay Area, but the rest of the country would probably chew them up, spit them out, dance on their brutally tortured corpses.
And burn them while chanting "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus".
Because that's what Texas do.
[Texas here is a metaphor for all of the smaller insignificant red states.]
Out there in the red states, there are well-trained little kiddies singing hymns of obsequium for the president, blue-haired grandmas dressed from sternum to swollen feet in red, white, and blue, and pick-up truck driving yutzes roaring around drunk at night without lights looking for transgendered Mexicans to work over. Very likely while chanting "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus".
They're also cheering the president's tariff victory.
The trade war is won. He blinked.
Stupendous, huuuge!
He blinked.
Loud chants of "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus".
Addendum at 11:22 added for local colour: ten guys in Alabama cruising down a dirt road in their pickup trucks shooting deer from the side of the road. A Walmart in Kentucky. Do you A) Love and adore president Trump's hard work to make our country great, or B) Hate our country and its people and everything in it because you’re a crazy socialist?
Strange filaments, and Karoline Leavitt.
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