I write about the human condition…

 In Writing

I write about the human condition—which sucks lately. Really sucks. And I’m thinking we can’t get to Mars fast enough for so many different reasons: from binding humanity through a magnificent common cause to saving our ass-backward DNA if we are too stupid to bind.

And we got this fat bastard as President?

And not by accident: we got what we deserve.

Now it’s Bob Woodward, the reporter who helped bring Nixon down, became quite famous as a result and reasonably well-off, I imagine. And he wants more.

So, he holds back life-saving info from Trump, disclosed to him during an interview on February 2, when Trump tells him Covid 19 is airborne and deadly—that’s 8 months ago, and a full month before I contracted dreaded virus, which is still screwing with me.

Bastard Woodward has the balls to say: I needed to check out veracity of Trump’s statement before sharing it with a vulnerable public.

Bullshit!

Held info back to suite his publishing purposes. And I am forced to wonder who is worse in this case: A Dumb Trump or an entitled Democrat?

And I been liberal my whole life; nevertheless, seems selfishness had no boundaries. It ain’t just Trump; it’s the whole fucking country afflicted with narcissism.

Like listening to Bill Mahr talking to Tom Freedman one night (another great reporter), about fastening a healthier diet to rebuild our immune system, to fight off covid while they both hide away in magnificent houses and condos and place their orders by phone at Whole Foods. Like some house painter or bus driver has the time and money to that; as if eating asparagus for 3 months is going to fend off dreaded virus?

Give me a fucking break: Fucking virus already broke me and I ate pretty well.

THE PROBLEM IS NOW!

As a result, we have to meet people where they are now and not where we want them to be.

We need to get rid of this sickness NOW, and then maybe we can raise a healthier generation.

Like I just said: Whole fucking country is blinded by selfishness and greed. And that is the real and true sickness; and that’s how we got this fat bastard President; and how this great reporter turned idiot with blood on his enriched hands.

WE are all responsible.

And we have to fight from where we are and not from where we want to be, against everyone who will not fight for us.

Or lose . . .

Read Astral; see future.

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