A and B were talking just outside the guard shack, so Lilith and I approached. B said he was fine, well not fine, and he pointed at the new camera set on the side of the shack. I said something about Trump's America. "Oh, the surveillance state, that was Biden." A: "I can't believe you supported Biden." I tried to say it was the Democrats I was supporting, not Uncle Joe, but he responded with another attack on the Dems for installing Kamala as the candidate. And besides, the new boss hates Trump. He's a Democrat. I didn't say anything about my political ambivalences. Ambivalence, like irony, is hiding under a rock somewhere (a power washed rock, I'm sure).
A started in on No Kings, the hundreds of millions of dollars funneled into the protests. "I've been to them all," I said, "and no one paid me a cent." "That's because you're a ROBOT." "Don't you call ME a ROBOT."
The other day, my auto body shop friend told me, apropos of leftist over-stepping, "I hate what our side does sometimes; we NEED those words." He listed a batch used in stand-up routines. "I NEED the word RETARD," he said, "because that's what he IS."
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