Tuesday, November 15, 2016
The Year of Exogenous Danger
O.K. Ed Bradley has been dead for ten years. There is something wrong with my research skills. I've become one of those bad news internet sources. I'll be banned in the new administration.
I'm getting really weary of the "what will I tell my unborn fetus about the election" crowd. Tired of desks with "free hugs" signs. Tired of the outrage against those labeled "racist/misogynist." Tired of the "white-lash" claim. Tired of attempted shaming of those who didn't vote. And this comes from all my smart friends. Their postures, the turn of their mouths. Suddenly they are all against the electoral college.
Don't misunderstand me. I've been sick of the Trump crowd for years.
What I do like are flawed characters. They are certainly interesting. I like the look in their eyes. I enjoy hearing stories about the crazy things they do. If it weren't for them, we would never have had Shakespeare or Faulkner.
I have become so uninteresting it is painful. I don't do anything let alone anything interesting. I am a toadstool. I have become someone I wouldn't care to know.
My most interesting story just now is that yesterday morning my car battery was dead. That's right. That's it. Nothing better to report.
So much for the years of actively living dangerously. The danger in my life is all passive now. Like most, I live with exogenous danger, the worst and most disturbing kind.