2020 – Come Up You Fearful Jesuit

Instantiations

Look, a lot of things speak to man’s inhumanity to man, but sometimes things get particularly acute

This is practically a Rothko.

Fuck it; get rid of Section 230.

Predictable Mix

Here are some pictures of things of which I am always taking pictures.

Hey, bud, I think you’re hiding backwards.

Your father just reading the ever-loving SHIT out of that Dante.

The other day I spaced out and ended up near work a bit early the other day, so I wandered around and took pictures. In direct contravention of my usual position on these things, they were mostly horizontal.

People say that depressives respond better to times of great trouble, given that they always feel bad. While I want to reassure you that this is absolutely false, I have been looking at all of this collapse in a fairly abstracted way. I guess I have been focusing on the scope of the injustice, and the degree to which it would be so much better if we had managed to be only slightly less venal as a society. With these things as a focus, the moment of crisis isn’t so traumatic. I’ve been sneering at people who say I’ve been too pessimistic about this outcome for 20 years*.

*(I know that this arc has been going on for a long time before W’s election, but I think that there was a possibility for other — and perhaps even less horrible — results before then. I also know that “outcome” is a little specious here.)

Good Stuff

One crow or a whole murder: usually fine.

Pairs of crows: always deeply suspicious.

Animals staring into the distance. . .

The pensive prince of dirt.

Boot dog.

Sort of unrelated, I guess.

Points Towards Which Things Recede

The undergrowth.

The sea.

The air.

Time (I took this one week ago.)

Here, by contrast, is something proceeding.

I am a bit encouraged by the fact that while I reach “sterile promontory” more or less constantly, I never quite get to “pestilent congregation of vapors.”