It.

All of it, but the last three posts in particular, and then some.

During that long drive down, listening to NPR when I could stand to listen to anything except the wind, I heard a story about how “scientists” had “succeeded” in creating artificial human embryos with no egg, sperm, or womb anywhere involved. O, Progress.

The main utility of these little monsters, it seems, will be in reducing the number of failed pregnancies and bringing more live babies to term, through a deeper understanding of in vitro fertilization and embryology in general.

There are already eight billion human beings sucking at Gaea’s tit, which should be more than enough to kill her one way or the other, and sooner rather than later.

But progress and science live in a world outside such concerns.

They will use the frankenchildren to make more and better humans anyway, and what is worse, most of those more successful human babies will turn into rich ones that suck up far more than their equal share of every kind of resource–because they don’t have or need IVF clinics in Somalia or Bangladesh. They have them in the suburbs of Atlanta and DC and London and Berlin, because that’s where the infertile overeducated wannabe boutique mothers with too much disposable income are to be found. Naturally.

NPR muttered dimly and briefly about the possible moral hazards.

But not the real ones like overpopulation or inequality. No, they were more concerned that God might not approve of vat-grown embryos being experimented upon, and stuff like that. That in His infinite wisdom He might find it … icky.

Beyond that though, they treated the news with optimistic applause, like the headfucked bluish drones they have dependably become over time.

***

As I mentioned, the other day Jimmy Dore interviewed Cornel West and there was no happy ending. James reflected on what went wrong, and tried to explain the source of his depressed disappointment with Dr. West.

The best analysis of the interview came from Sabrina Salvati … and I say that confidently despite the fact that I’ve only (so far) watched her first ten minutes.

In that brief span, she zeroes right in on what the real disagreement was between the interviewer and the interviewed. It comes down to a difference in perception about Trump and Biden and the parties they represent.

Jimmy says there’s no ultimate difference. Cornel objects, arguing that the Dems are still after all this time the lesser evil. Who are the worst fascists? Cornel says: Trump and MAGA. Okay, maybe, but … why?

It’s because, he says, that although the two parties are equally bad in real terms, the Trump faction is more fascist because, in addition to all the macro-shitty things both sides do … the Trumpists also engage in “the scapegoating of the most vulnerable”.

Dr. West, I’m still very likely to vote for you. But that’s a very thin thread to hang your distinction on, and as many people have pointed out, that thread does not come free, either–politically.

In other words, there is no electoral upside, and maybe a steep downside, to saying “Biden ain’t quite as bad”.

I don’t get why you would say it. I don’t get why your main spiritual advisor, the estimable Chris Hedges, would not try to rein you in on spouting such a useless, nonsense thing.

Unlike Jimmy, I’m not quite disappointed in you, but that’s because of how Sabrina opens her analysis in this piece. She says:

• “there is no hero coming to save you”
• “we have to save ourselves”
• “we have to help each other”
• “I’m not sad, I’m not depressed, I’m not heartbroken”
• “because I’m not relying on a politician to come and save me”

Preach it, sister.

We already made that mistake once or twice with the brutally disappointing old puppet man named Bernie. A lot of us made it to a degree with Obama before that.

We’d be fools to make the same mistake all over again with Cornel, or anyone.

Essentially, Jimmy and Sabby and Nick Cruze and all the other people shitting on Dr. West as a candidate right now … are in the right, intellectually and morally, and Cornel is badly mistaken. Even foolish on this score.

I can vote for him with a mind at peace anyway, because I’m not relying on even him, to come make everything right, and save us.

Thanks for the reminder, Ms. Salvati.

***

This runs a little deeper than politics for me.

I have so much respect for the Michael Moore who filmed Roger & Me. So too for Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Charles Bukowski, and the ability of James McMurtry to understand the dynamic of ‘We Can’t Make It Here Anymore’.

But no film or book or song, much less any politician, is going to save me.

No mother or sister or brother or pension or job or idea is going to save me either.

When the tacks are down to brass and baggie is down to stems and seeds, no one is even going to understand how to help me–the ones who even care to give it a shot are few and precious–and understanding, nearly mythical as it is, would still be no guarantee at all that helping me would be worth it to anyone in this dark and sober world.

They have problems of their own. Those problems take the priority, and almost always ALL the priority, over mine.

Love has nothing to do with it.

I got mine, pal.

Best of luck to you.

And I am forced into a place where I have to say the same in return, not just because I can’t afford to be an altruist, but because you lose respect for me when I am one. Even to a third or fourth kitten life.

So water your own fuckin’ plants.

Move your own self down the road.

Celebrate your own birthday and send me a funny .gif for mine.

I’ll be over here living the same, and we can call it even. No hard feelings. Vaya con su Diosa and I’ll be going over here with mine.