The sheeple have spoken. It is deemed correct. We must all cower in fear, wear masks, and wait for Armageddon.

My faith in humanity has been sorely tested over the past three years. I am all but done done with my fellow humans. The exception comes when it becomes absolutely necessary to interact with them: work, and some rare exceptions I’ll decide on.

People who I thought might have some redemptive qualities have come unglued over the past six to eight weeks. I can’t spend any time on Facebook, since it resembles a catalog for bad-looking masks that won’t do shit other than signal the wearer’s virtue. That’s the platform at it’s best these days.

A couple of articles I read this week made sense to me. Ironically, the first one comes from a Catholic, which is rich for someone like me, an agnostic at best. There are things to fear more than death. Ironically, so many progressives are pretty fucking selective on the lives they value.

It doesn’t really matter what I post in this space anyways, since no one appears capable of reading anything longer than 250 words, especially here.

I’ve been a fan of Andrew Sullivan for quite some time. When he writes, I usually read.

Perhaps some sanity and reasons for hope present, soon.

That rare person I still harbor some respect for posted this on his Facebook page (perhaps the only thing of value I’ve found there during Krona, except Bob Marley videos).

I’ll end with this musical non sequitur.

I saw the late Scotty Weiland and STP at the old CCCC in Portland. Melvins opened up for them, which was awesome!

Weiland and the boys were late coming on and the crowd was restless, waiting. Then, STP came out and they ripped it up. I can still hear Scotty singing “Crackerman.”

This is my favorite from their catalog. I got out the electric this afternoon and worked my way through the song’s chords and riffs. It was a healthy diversion for me.