Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance

10=2=24, 7 PM

Dear Mary and Lee,

As if things were not already dire, at about 4PM CDT, my phone stopped working. It won't boot-up; what's even more annoying, it keeps repeating "Hello, Moto!" every sixty seconds. I finally wrapped it in a towel and a blanket and put it in the bathroom because I couldn't bear to hear it anymore. The phone is/was such a large part of keeping my morale up. I had the news, videos, etc., plus phone numbers and Google Maps, all of which are now gone. I can't do any research without it, and it had all my appointments. I can't communicate or coordinate with you, This is extraordinarily bad.

There is a place withing walking distance that repairs computers. I remember where it is, but I have no money to repair it. I put all $20 on the bus card, so at least I have transportation, probably enough for the rest of the month. It's not a bad battery. I tried charging it, but it still won't boot-up, and the constant booting-up attempts just drain the battery again.

If I have to go into the Ray of Light Mission, they do not accept residents' mail!!!  (On top of everything else.)I (and my stuff) are OK 'til the 11th at 11AM. Then I will lose whatever I can't put in a backpack. If I have to relocate, I'll try to find a mail drop.

The scum at the front desk won't let me use their phone to call you, and they have said I can't use their damn lobby computers for more than thirty minutes a day.

I am going to have to go into the Ray of Light Mission in the bad section of downtown in The Unknown City. Here's how the Ray of Light Mission works. You have to line up for a bunk every day. Get there an hour early. The line is, of course, longer in winter and in rainy weather. If they fill up the beds, you sleep in the street.  You have to be out in the morning. That explains all the bums waiting to get into the library at 9 AM with all their worldly possessions in a push cart. I just have to get there an hour early every day; it's an inconvenience.

I am out of money. I am a financial sink on my sister, who cannot afford to support me anymore. I have applied for Social Security disability, but I haven't heard from them in six months. I will try to get Section 8 subsidized housing, and a job, but things don't look good. Then there is the fucking sex offender registry I have to worry about. And the fucking law case. You'd think with the evidence I've got that the Innocence Project would be able to do something, but they can't. Not without a more current statement.

We have the updated roster of the Apocalypse, boys and girls! Trump is the Antichrist, Elon Musk is the False Prophet, and Laura Loomer is the Whore of Babylon! Get your tickets now--time is running out!

ETA: Also, at the risk of getting banned, how does That Fucking Gangster Putin fit in, with his collaboration with the Iranians?

II

I met Murder on the way--

He had a mask like Castlereagh--

Very smooth he looked, yet grim; 

Seven bloodhounds followed him:

VIII

Last came Anarchy: he rode

On a white horse, splashed with blood,

He was pale even to the lips

Like Death in the Apocalypse.

IX

And he wore a kingly crown;

And in his grasp a sceptre shown;

On his brow this mark I saw--

"I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!"

--Percy Bysshe Shelley, from "The Masque of Anarchy"

*  A million different varieties of sports drinks, energy drinks, protein shakes, probiotic sodas. Nobody seems to drink Coke anymore. And don't order "plain coffee" in a Starbucks. You will be laughed at and pointed at.

* "Gluten-free," "peanut allergy," "soy-free," "keto," "lactose intolerant," etc. etc. etc. When I get the money, I'm going to do a "steak cleanse," just as a protest. Nothing but steak for a week. Fuck 'em.

It's become simultaneously a country where everybody is ultra-sensitive to giving offense--and a country where everybody is intolerant of everyone else. If someone disagrees with you in the slightest, they are the enemy. There is no middle ground: "You are either with us, or you are with the terrorists." Half the country is militant feminist critical race theory fans who are lactose-intolerant non-smoking vegans, and the other half is knuckle-dragging illiterate white-trash who had to repeat the third grade twice and who think Trump is God.

Me:  I thought I would leave from the bus stop right across from the hotel, for safety. But I outsmarted myself: I got here and there was a bum lying full-length on the bench. Hope he's not violent. (laughing emoji) First bus of the day arrives in ten minutes.

Mary: (thumbs up)

***time passes***

Me: Well, I give up. I just give the fuck up. After I bust my ass to be here *at six* as I was told; after standing outside in one spot until 7:30 when they actually opened the doors; after passing through the *metal detector* and standing in line for another half-hour . . . I get to the desk and . . . they do NOT do temporary housing placement--they handed me a mimeographed *sheet of paper* with numbers to call. (angry emoji)(exhausted emoji) I am already exhausted. I think I would cry if I weren't so tired. (vomiting emoji)

***time passes***

Me: I'm sorry. I've done my due diligence, haven't I? HAVEN'T I? (tearful emoji) . . . I'm at the library with all the bums.

***time passes***

Me: I'm sorry. I'm just tired. (exhausted emoji) . . . I have nobody to talk to.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I am at the library waiting for the job center workshop to begin. I was reading Abraham Lincoln: The War Years I by Carl Sandburg while I was waiting, and I came across this sentence: "South Carolina is too small for a republic and too large for a lunatic asylum." I defy anyone to read this book and not see any contemporary parallels. Abolitionists lynched, mutilated, disfigured with acid, executed. This country is like a cross between the US in 1861 and Germany in the 1920's, and the only thing the South didn't have in 1861 was a narcissistic millionaire as its President: Jefferson Davis was considered a moderate. If That Fucking Psychopath gets elected again, we're headed for a dictatorship. The white trash who are his fanatic minions will do anything for him, including kill. The Orange Fool will break any law, tell any lie; he has no country but himself.

. . . And here I am with enough personal problems to deal with, aside from the condition of the country. On top of everything else, I have to ride this out with everyone--because as it is now I can't even leave the country. I can't even get a driver's license.

You cannot get to the library from the tunnels, but you can get to within a block of it. You can't go directly into City Hall because there's a metal detector, nor can you get to the library basement. You have to come up for air just before the metal detector and stroll through the park . . .

. . . where a mentally-troubled maniac is declaiming loudly in fluent gibberish. If he were holding a sign that read, for instance, "TRUMP IS A CUNT," that would be protected free political speech. On the other hand, there is always the intentionally-vague charge of "disturbing the peace," which is actually code for "a policeman can arrest you at any time for anything." There is another maniac in front of the library itself, not far from two policemen who seem to be enjoying his rant.

I am out of stimulus money, and I am about to bankrupt my poor sister, who has been propping me up ever since I got out of The Bad Place.  Tried to get in line for housing, but they only take the first fifteen applicants (suppliants?) on Tuesdays and Wednesdays starting at 6AM. I missed it by two hours. To get there at six next Tuesday, I would have to be at the bus stop before dawn, which is not exactly safe. But I do not want to live under an overpass.

First we were borderline rich, then middle-class, and now I'm a penniless ex-con with a (spurious) sex charge on my record. Good luck getting work with THAT, especially at my age.

New things I still haven't quite adjusted to yet:

*   the word "Karen" to describe an entitled, spoiled, narcissistic woman

*   no mailboxes (because nobody gets paper mail anymore)

*   hardly any newspapers or magazines (everything's online)

*   no cabs (only Uber, Lyft, etc.)

*   influencers: people who are apparently famous for being famous (e.g. "Mr. Beast")

—   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   —   

Me: Turn on CNN. Someone just tried to assassinate your boy.

Mary: I've been watching it on X.

Me: [dumbfounded emoji]

Mary: Trump is a great man. You may not like him, but how he responded to this is epic.

Me: Oh, I'm just as shocked as anyone else. . . . Did a bullet graze his head? He has blood on his face.

Mary: Yes, he was hit just above his ear. Another rally-goer was killed and a second in serious condition.

Me: He's lucky as hell. Two inches to his left and he'd be dead. . . . If the crowd gets hold of that shooter, they will tear him limb from limb.

Mary: The shooter was outside the perimeter.

Me: Look at the black woman with the hat and sunglasses behind Trump and to his left. She went down like she was poleaxed. I'll bet she got the bullet meant for him. [dumbfounded emoji]

Mary: Oh, no!