I wrote the Velma bit just in time, because today the DD guys took it on and of course did it more comprehensively, and just better. Among other things, the remake is animated too, not ‘live-action’ as I mistakenly assumed from only hearing about it and not ever seeing it.
Not that any of it matters, but since I brought it up, I might as well own my mistake.
This morning I slept from three until eight and it was good. ‘Better’ in this case would be managing to crash earlier than that, getting up at the same time, and just having a longer rest. But … maybe five hours will set me up to do just that. And … maybe five hours was all my body really needed.
On a tangential note, “I Went Back To California. My Home Town Looks Like A War Zone“.
The hometown is San Bernardino, and the hometownie is sort of a witless dick at certain points. But hey, he got 1.7 million views out of it, whereas this will be read by about five people, and I was inspired for reasons of my own to watch the first 13 minutes of this to massage my own confirmation bias … in the direction of …
The real America as a ‘third-world’ place, at best, or just a late-stage capitalism shithole.
We did it to ourselves. We can’t make it here any more. This isn’t some unique insight from an incisive malcontent. Read the comments underneath the war zone video. Everybody knows.
The answer isn’t voting. The answer isn’t staying in school so you can someday afford to rent somewhere better than the real America. The answer isn’t green jobs, or jobs period. It’s not Velma or the Lone Ranger either, not red or blue, not jesus or dope.
Not leading, nor following.
But I can make one up.
Pilgrimage to Helloutta, and doing the Work. This is my fictional philosophy.
Back roads and belletrism are the only cracks I know that actually take away the pain without leading down to the entropic gutter of Berdoo with the rest of the remarkably unelite.