New York Times

I like it mean and lean. I am a communist. The problem is Lucidity. The debate on and off, and who won wins a high school D-. So. What. I work with adolescent boys who live with HIV. It’s always in my face. I had this complete fantasy about how you could take Evil that orchestrated as scattershot PR damage control out of control, and ideological America consented to do nothing about the media’s focus on Are We Losing Democracy. It was violence versus deliquescent vaporization. Articulate Theory. We Stand Up and Oppose Vaccination. You what. And the constitution says slavery was legal. But no. They oppose vaccination, and when was the last time you attended church. Date and Data. It’s about how tools are used. My guys with HIV have discovered a link trafficked like a train wreck. Their image of themselves is to know straight boys among them. They speak in tongues. These issues comport a conservative authority with enough gravitas to send teenagers on a unauthorized quest to undo and rectify injustices done to them by strange adults who want to have sex with them so it’s okay for the Teenagers to have sex with someone else. Sue. Sue. Sue. The vaccine argument (everyone but me in this mountain village) goes out of their way to disguise an agenda that is, comically, a pseudo-refutal of genetically-altered exoplanets spewing Capitalism’s Air Death, Water Death. Rats On Mars. Viral Deaths, Cancer Death. Fungal. Bacterial. Obesity. Obesity. Racism hidden in our hearts. This shrugging off the status quo is my job.  I will not be allowed to take up space in the New York Times. It will be perceived as uncivil. By what standards. Change or Die Is Killing both of us. No middle of the road for the Democrats. Comments are not read in numbers. Most media has eliminated them. It was horrible PR. We need Middle of the Road police. Back off.  Uncivil is the backing off. Surrendering to far more scenes of civilized terror and civilized stability, perhaps children would do all of this, but it will cost you. One: Get Yourself an Assistant. This work is backbreaking. Where can I run to next it’s get out of Dodge in the swamps until the swamps become the high desert mesa. Next, hand over your government to the Literature Police because they’re over us. Period. We stand ashamed. Never Let Them Define You. 

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