So hundreds of billions down that rathole, ultimately buying nothing except inflated stock prices for weapons manufacturers and the generous goodwill of the donor class.

Tens of billions more going out the door as we speak to the new and improved kind of Nazis and their carpet-bombing of the southern Sudetenland.

But oh! In the heartland, a hurricane blew your house away and buried Granny under floodwater?

Ain’t that a shame. You have our deepest sympathies.

Here’s a nice crisp form for you to fill out, for $750 in aid. We’ll check it over, means-test your application, and get back to you, either way, promise. Promise!

***

I try my honest best, to translate your indistinct warbling about all this, in my head, on the fly. Not that you’re talking to me, because you’re not … I’m just trying to eavesdrop. To overhear.

Sometimes I catch a phrase or two: “good guys” … “dawn’s early light” … “save democracy” …

And all those snippets make me want to do is stop even trying to understand, where you’re coming from, any more, my dear, because the vague bits are so disheartening and paint you in such an ugly light.

I’ve loved you longtime, and so I know … you can’t possibly be that stupid–what’s the alternative to that, then?

Those god damn lizard people must have got inside your head somehow, in the years I was too busy working to pay you enough mind.

Bad lizards. Bad lizards. The scariest zombie movie I ever saw.

Madness.

Do I choose it, or does it choose me?