The Curmudgeon

It is not for lack of material that I have fallen mostly silent as of late. Grampy McSame and the MILF who would be VP have come fully unhinged, and in their desperate clamor they create jaw-dropping acts, idiotic and feral. The Breeder Bachmann has chewed through her muzzle and leash, letting her special sunshiney brand of crazy out to shine brightly. One can almost imagine her jilted fury at watching yet another milfy breeder get paraded on the large political stage- hell, if she had known, she'd have gone a damn safari to prove her hunting prowess.

The wealthy elites are grabbing the government by the balls and whispering "gimme" while they still can, riding the markets like a fuckmachine, and this bright shiny act has gained the attention of the corporate controlled media, now in full lather between election coverage and the myriad crises in the world.

Every day, it grows more breathless.

And every day, my reaction grows more towards "meh". This situation isn't gonna end well- no matter the outcome of the election. There'll be more breathless weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth no matter what happens, and for all that hubbub, the depth of it will prove amazingly superficial. Meh.

I have other interests, other facets which are also compelling. There's hockey to be watched, there are other creative outlets to be explored- and unlike this ephemeral political tempest, the resolution of these other interests is far from decided. Given a choice between a predictable and predictably unsatisfying interest and a pursuit which sparks creativity and rewards that interest, I'll be taking the latter.

In short, look for the tenor and tone of this space to be changing: perhaps not so much politics, and more, well, more eclectic ponderings. There may well be a common theme which emerges, but you will discern it as I discover it.