Take notes. We are ruled by criminals and one rapist criminal. It’s the clown car and he is driving it. Our government is the mob and the mob has won. I wish you luck on keeping your vaunted democracy. Ordinary lament. The Supreme Court golf-cart assessment of how many things are all okay as long as we do not resist. I will resist. Do you stand with me. No. You desire certification. All wrapped up with an institutional blue ribbon. We need Johnny to help making widgets. The people want widgets and Johnny Boy is a compromised widget. The supply chain has a kink called New Jersey and all the widgets are on one big truck. All we need are more widgets so we don’t have to pick sides yet. Choose. Now is the time to protect your personal agency. To not decide is to decide. 

I see a civil war waiting in the wings. There will be spies. The statue bearing Trump’s name in Statuary Hall is the one with the loaded gun. That he is a rapist (I will get in trouble for writing this), doesn’t seem to bother women who vote for whoever their boyfriends and husbands and brothers and the milk man tell her who to vote for. Thank you, women. To wit: Murder. I am not allowed to use that term. Murder. Let us spy on murder. This stuff is a Hollywood dream come true. Nicole Kidman must know Langley pretty well. This is where we formulate how the spy thing works on steroids. And you Americans think that all of it is real. All of it is real, and none of it is real. Civil war. They don’t spy on that.