56F and drizzling. Wet and miserable.
Countdown to the end of the year keeps going. I’m falling further behind.
Big stack of stuff to do today, we’ll see how much gets done. Rain WON’T help.
And the world continues to go mad. Talking to the Russians = go to jail, but selling them nuclear materials = good job, here’s a pile of money, go write a book– that is, if you are the right sort of pig.
I know I’m not the right sort. The things I believe in as correct and necessary are mocked as outdated, stupid, badthink. My very existence is vilified, and otherwise intelligent and tolerant people nod along. The actual accomplishments of people like me are dismissed and ridiculed, while the extreme and bizarre mental illnesses of others are celebrated. Perversions and mutilations, the most degrading and harmful behaviours- revered, worshiped, and set as an example for children to aspire to. Yet people just like me plod along, faithfully doing what’s necessary so that civilization continues for another day.
http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/poems_martha.htm
n