One of the people I interact with regularly is convinced that Martial Law has already been enacted (elsewhere), the New World Order is taking over, UN troops will soon be on US soil, and there will be riots and societal breakdown. He's also NOT convinced of the seriousness of COVID 19, and misquotes Rand Paul approvingly. Of course he's a nice person, and a great cook. But in my estimation he's stark raving batshit. Like many of my fellow Americans.
He's a better person than two others I deal with, who are meanspirited Trumpite weasels, but that actually isn't saying much. Common sense in Marin has taken a hind seat.
It's always been that way there.
If I have to identify a cause of that, I'd say hot tubs, weed, and "spirituality".
White people don't do spirituality well, and when they try, you get disturbing off-kilter shiznit. Yoga, whale-saving, meaningfulness, and chakras. Plus converts to Buddhism, veganism, and LSD. It's like these poor little lost souls are desperate to colour their bland Caucasoid lives, commune with nature, acquire spirit animals, and channel for three thousand year old entities, while offering clean pure natural tobacco (and sage) to the great sky father.
Necessarily, being in touch with reality goes out the window. The combination of twirling, drugs, and free-spiritedness, along with unique self-expression and touching their feelings, is a potent cocktail, intoxicating and hallucinogenic.
I'd like to claim that it's limited in geographic scope, but here in San Francisco there are also people like that, and over in Berkeley it's worse. Different, but worse.
I have no solution for this, I do not know how to address it, deal with it, or cure it.
I'm just an observer, not a participant, in their disrealities.
It would be lovely if those people would shut up.
Unfortunately, they are too giddy.
And meaningful.
Buckets. Just buckets.
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A DUMPSTER FIRE OF TWITTERY
Often while at work I get to hear the sour old dingbats in the backroom spouting Republican drivel and venom. Which does not leave me positi...
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Far too many people in the Boston area - especially here in the People's Republic of Somerville - have been infected with the "neo-pagan" nonsense.
They get very antsy when I point out that Aleister Crowley was an unapologetic and unrepentant anti-semite and racist.
Meanwhile I prepare for my people's celebration of miracles and fried foods. Just the thing for a hillbilly-raised descendant of the tribe of Levi.
Oliebollen (sweet puffy fritters) are traditional in the Netherlands at this time of year. The name translates as "oil Balls". Have a Hanukka sameach!
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