Tuesday, February 28, 2023


The problem with the news is that it almost always includes thoroughly nasty or unpleasant stuff showing that our country is living through the worst of times, unlike the storied past when everything was fine and it was morning in America. Which is kind of depressing. And highlights how glad I am to live in San Francisco, where the food is decent, the people not too objectionable, and the natives aren't rabid, rioting, or down right repulsive.

California is a wonderful place.

Unlike several other states in this country, which I shall now gratuitously mention: Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, West Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.

Those being dystopian parts of the country where Marjorie Taylor Greene and Lauren Boebert are idolized, Jesus is lord, and every rational person flees.

The rest of the world is not any better. By a long shot.

Here's a photo from Jesus country:
As you can tell, it's bloody awful there.
Riots outside the burger barn.

There was a lovely golf course on top of a military listening post in Mindanao I visited a long time ago. The first time, there was a gentle drizzle, it was only slightly too warm, and there were crows cawing a bit off to the side. Delightful in the light grey haze.

That wasn't the year I ended up at Rio Hondo for a while. Which smelled of tar and seaweed, and seemed remarkably peaceful despite the horrible poverty.

An airfield, an angry waterbuffalo, and insects.
Still, also a very delightful period.
An odour of kerosene.

An empty warehouse that ponged of copra.
And hot weak oolong.

Westerhoven, end of summer.
Trees along fields.

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