Tuesday is the end of my ten-day ordeal. A Chinese water torture of sorts. Tomorrow will feel like being beaten for twelve hours with a bag full of oranges but knowing that only a single day stands between me and freedom makes me anxious to get it started. I anticipate catastrophic failure, mob violence and accusations of mopery and dopery. But it’s as if I can see the daylight shining through the hole punched through the Earth by the screaming asteroid of doom. So, I am almost giddy with anticipation. Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on.
I read most of the news today and other than that Miller Beer manifesto for sucking all the joy out of men drinking beer, I didn’t see anything all that exciting. There were all the lefty rags admonishing Trump and DeSantis, “Let’s you and him fight!” And there was that idiot Durham with his 300-page report confirming that the FBI started the Russia-gate investigation without any evidence and yet without any criminal or professional consequences for the conspirators. There were all the economic warnings of the impending financial meltdown. There was Biden claiming he was going to prevent the millions of immigrants that he invited to the border from coming in, somehow. There was the ridiculous budget battle between McCarthy and Biden.
And all sorts of other apocalyptic headlines. But none of them were ready for prime time quite yet. I’m curious to see if McCarthy scares Biden into creating a budget. That would be a major accomplishment. But we’ll have to wait.
The rest of it is just stuffing to separate the beginning and end of these news sites. It’s something to keep these journalists off the crack pipe. Or is it fentanyl now?
I was getting Camera Girl some cold medicine at Wally-mart and I went past the $5 bin of DVDs. And I spotted a copy of John Wick 1. Now I saw it when it came out and kinda, sorta enjoyed it. I mean, it’s so cartoonish that I enjoyed it as a cartoon. And when the second one came out, I rented it. And it was too cartoonish to enjoy. The volume of bullets flying and the sheer numbers of people being shot is dizzying. It almost gives you motion sickness. I missed the third one. And now there’s a fourth one coming out. So, seeing that copy in the remainder bin of venerable old John Wick 1 made me feel nostalgic for the comfortable 5X speed that I remember from that classic. After my ordeal is over tomorrow, I’m going to find two hours or whatever it was and watch Keanu Reeves do whatever it is that he does in motion pictures. Sure, it’s stupid and sure it’s not acting but so what? Where is there acting anymore? Certainly not on tv.
Of late Camera Girl has been watching some of the innumerable and interchangeable cop and fireman series that are sprinkled across prime-time network tv. Once in a while she’ll have one on while I’m in the room and recently I’ve discovered what these shows have become in the last ten years or so. They’re soap operas. The most important component of the plot is the girl cops or fire girls or NCIS girls emoting about their feeling to their male counterparts or talking to the other girls about which boy they’re in love with. Honestly, this is what the women of America think a police precinct or firehouse or SWAT team is all about. It’s completely unwatchable and I have chastised Camera Girl for her horrible taste in entertainment but being a girl herself she can’t see the problem. So, I’ve asked her to find some time when I’m out of the house or in a coma to watch this sort of dreck.
So Wednesday I’ll resurface and try to have something somewhat clever to say. But for now, it’s horror and anticipation that holds me in sway. Enjoy your Tuesday. We who are about to die salute you.