My longest sentence

For some reason I’m struggling to get some work done on my new novel and Hope Hicks resigned yesterday and Jared Kushner’s security clearance was downgraded, gosh darn it, and I can’t stop thinking about those kids in Florida but I need to work on my fiction but then Trump calls Sessions Mr. Magoo, and he’s right, of course, Sessions is a fucking racist, hillbilly, halfwit, twit (there’s a song in there) but how the hell can I focus when there is a church in Pennsylvania, maybe 45 miles from where I tried and some would say failed to grow up, that is holding a holy ceremony to bless its followers’ semi-automatic weapons as the congregants sit wearing crowns of bullets, their expressions a mix of grim and godly conviction (with a side order of tears) and googly-eyed lunacy and I’m trying to create credible characters and make them breathe though my own breath isn’t coming as easily as I’d like and our government doesn’t want to ban the weapons, isn’t going to ban the weapons, because how would we protect ourselves from imaginary threats and feel the excitement and security the illusion of power brings and get reelected not to mention there is a shitload of money involved here and politicians are nothing if not greedy, duplicitous scrotum scum, which I mean in the most nonjudgmental and almost but not quite complimentary way, the spelling of which-nonjudgmental-has always irked me, and then Carson, the most ignorant, idiotic alleged surgeon known to man or turnip-unless Trump, in addition to being a vile, spiteful, narcissistic, congenitally mendacious slug, is also an alleged surgeon-cancels his $31,000 order for office cutlery or whatever because … well because he got caught, and it looks like H. R. McMaster is on his way out, too, which is okay because, let’s face it, this entire group possesses the perfect combination of power, incompetence, and stupidity to destroy this country and the planet upon which is it an oozing pustule, that is unless Putin, who just boasted of the ability to strike Florida-also, perhaps not the worst choice of targets if we can get those kids out-with “invincible” nuclear missiles-does it first, which seems unlikely because Trump would probably just give him the keys to the entire country if he asked with his shirt off and an inflatable Russian teen hooker in his briefcase, but you never know, and of course the Republicans have decided to skip that whole gun vote thing “for now” (see also “permanently”) and vote on finances instead, which tends to be the issue that brings their salivary glands to orgasm anyway and did I mention that West Virginia schools are closed because of a strike but let’s put some money into the really great idea of arming teachers even though two fucking days ago an ARMED TEACHER sat in his classroom and fired his weapon, but what’s the worst thing that could happen, no teacher is ever going to lose his temper or shoot into a crowd in a moment of panic or get shot by a cop because … well, she is holding a gun and she is black and … or just be overpowered by a student that couldn’t get his own gun and then have a more serious problem because guns don’t kill but they do keep us from getting shot by other guns that also don’t kill, at least that’s how I understand it, and even 20% of teachers in the good ol’ USA would be a shitload of sales for the gun industry and I really need to focus on my work but then I think about Jared and Ivanka and their absolute absence of relevant knowledge or experience or intelligence and if I could just write a paragraph or two and flesh out the characters but then I’m reminded of the honorable protectors of our constitution who are sending death threats to the survivors of the Florida school slaughter and I wonder whether these are “responsible gun owners” or “good guys with guns” because to be honest it’s sometimes confusing and for some reason I can’t quite get myself into the story I’m trying to write or, well, should be trying to write, and so I eat some Ritz crackers or potato chips (honestly, I eat both, lots of both) but amazingly even that doesn’t seem to ignite my imagination or even tweak my interest and don’t even ask me about Italy and the impending election because I might just puke up all the pasta I’ve ever eaten and piss virgin olive oil until I’m drowning in it and of course Trump’s supporters still love him because he hates the same people (mostly dark) they do and the religious right is certainly not religious and is absolutely wrong though they like to bring up God quite a bit so they can feel righteous as they hate and attack and rape and pollute though I don’t see how they are different from that church in PA or, for that matter, the Taliban which also strives to keep people ignorant and to hate and/or kill people who aren’t them and meanwhile at my son’s school today they held a shooter drill, which is always nice for the kids, you know, to get outside and wonder where the next automatic round of life-shattering projectiles will come from and which of their classmates will survive the inalienable rights of the law abiding gun lovers and it’s funny, but the only people I fantasize about mowing down with an AR-15 are the ones who absolutely insist on my right to own one so thanks for that and Iowa just decide to grant gun permits to the blind and my brother is in the hospital recovering but refusing food and I wonder why but not really, not really, and the problem isn’t a gun problem, it’s a mental health problem, at least if you’re white and the right religion, or maybe it’s all gone to hell with these kids because we’ve taken God and corporal punishment out of the classroom and parents don’t beat their children quite enough to convince them that violence is wrong you little shit and doesn’t solve problems and that’s for not respecting the flag because our country is the best country damn it and if you don’t believe that you should be hanged like all the black people, sons and daughters of American slaves, that were slaughtered in our great country under that great flag in the name of all that is apparently holy but the drill is probably over now and of course my son is safe and he has no reason to doubt that, does he, no reason to be afraid when he goes to school that his young life will be a soon-to-be-forgotten part of the necessary price we pay, some of us more gladly than others, in this great country with the great flag etc., for the rights of people who believe his young life is a reasonable price to pay for the false sense of security and power and potency they get from that big black proxy penis but for some reason I just can’t put my finger on, I seem to be having difficulty focusing on my novel.
Why is that, do you think?

Hanging On While Letting Go

Life, it seems to me, is predominantly about letting go; letting go of the warmth and protection of the womb, the nourishment of the umbilical cord; letting go… Read more »