Tuesday, September 15, 2015

No Time Toulouse

I do not have sufficient time to write a decent post today. Not if I want to leave myself enough time to consume some lunch. Besides, my mind is just filled to the brim with anger and it's dark sister, sadness. I keep ruminating about subjects to write about, but I the image of the dead baby on the beach keeps returning to me. It's not just the image that is burned into my memory banks, but also running backs, thanking god for their touchdown, or fans sending a "thousand prayers" for the quick and speedy recovery of their favorite stunt woman from Mad Max. I keep thinking, didn't one of the angels think to show god that picture of the Syrian toddler, lying dead on the sand? 

When angry thoughts about the silly beliefs of man come to my mind, I tend to censor myself. My anger about religion always falls upon deaf ears, especially those ears closest to me. George Michael once said that "You've got to have faith," but I think he may have been talking about his luck finding gay lovers in the public loo. Those with faith always like to brag that you either have it or you don't. Kind of like inherent intelligence I suppose. You either chose to exercise your brain and it's components of curiosity or you're one of the idiots spouting such nonsense as, "God must have needed another angel" when the death of a child is announced to you.

The teachers of the Seattle public schools are still on strike. I have no anger directed towards them. My anger is saved for our ridiculous society that claims to value education, but proves otherwise at every turn. That's because all the rich kids are currently in school right now. The children of the movers and shakers don't have to worry about missing their studies. We who live in the trickle-down  society are still waiting for the education crumbs to fall our way. Maybe if the lazy fucks of the U.S.A. got off their asses and collectively voted for Bernie Sanders. It would never happen, because there are too many fools out there, who dream of being Donald Trump, the windblown Nazi.

So, a sandwich to make, and a job to perform. Those are the tasks in my immediate future. My angst will have to wait until later. Maybe by then, I'll have some puppies and rainbows to write about.


1 comment:

rebecca hatto said...

You put into words what I think. If only more people felt the same!!