Depression. Anxiety. Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have those, diagnosed by actual doctors. I’m not paranoid beyond what would be expected, yet I have people who hate me. Funny story, not hah hah funny, strange funny. I’m in the local Hospital because I’m 120+ years old and I get sick beyond the power of chicken soup and bed rest to cure no matter how much garlic you put in it (and the rumors I sleep in a coffin are simply not true, a scattering of home earth suffices as long as I use SPF 1000) and so I ended up up spending an uncomfortable and sleepless night before I was “stable”.
Don’t let anyone tell you a Hospital is a place you can rest, that’s why I hate visitors. Besides, they only come to poke you with a stick and see if you’re dead. You’ve hardly lived until you have to take a dump in front of your friends or had them wheel out a room mate and replace them with an empty bed. Guys, I think everyone in the world knows what Code Blue means, you’re not fooling anybody.
So I’m lying there trying not to die because that would be inconvenient, watching Monday Mornings the first episode of which convinced me I had a brain aneurysm but it was probably just the writing and acting, and listening to the nurses chat.
“But you know who I really hate? It’s that snotty ek hornbeck.” “Yeah, he’s the worst.”
I know what you’re thinking, but you would be wrong. My first reaction was “Yay, kossacks!” My second reaction was “Well, thank goodness I didn’t give them my card.” John Henry was a steel driving man and Roger Murdock is an Airline Pilot. You may feel free to think it’s a mere near death hallucination but I’ve been sicker, or a drug induced delusion but they never give me any good ones and since I was being prepped for surgery under a general anesthetic it was straight saline.
Besides, they repeated it at the next shift change. I must have really pissed them off.
Oh I have tons of hilarious Hospital stories, but that’s not my main point nor is my mental illness. I admit to them as proof of fundamental sanity, many things about me are wrong or flat out lies designed to disguise, but sometimes they are real enough.
The Role of Politicians in an Oligarchy
by Ian Welsh
2016 May 20
Politicians wrangle voters for oligarchs, who pay them well for the service. They then pass bills and regulations which help those oligarchs, because it is those oligarchs who give them almost all their money.
If a politician does not do this, and gets into a position of potential power, the attacks are unrelenting.
For an example, please read the media coverage of Corbyn; note also how much he is attacked by Labour party politicians, EVEN as the vast majority of Labour party members support him (and that support has increased since he won the leadership.)
Corbyn didn’t take the money. For decades he didn’t take the money. He didn’t become a Blairite even though he had every reason to believe that by not doing so, he was condemning himself to a life as a bank bencher and to never get rich.
Whether you agree with Corbyn’s beliefs or not, THAT is integrity.
The vast, vast majority of politicians in the developed world are not just corrupt, they are your enemies.
The actions they take impoverish you and kill you in exchange for wealth and favors from the rich.
A man like Obama or Bill Clinton (or, in the future a woman like Hillary Clinton) is far more likely to ruin your life than Osama bin Laden ever was. Bill Clinton pushing through Welfare “Reform” harmed millions of the poorest weakest people in America. Repeal of Glass-Steagall allowed the financial crisis to happen.
Unless you are an oligarch, or a retainer who is on the gravy train, people like Clinton and Obama and Blair and Cameron and Thatcher are your enemies. They are a direct threat to your well-being, welfare and even life.
The first thing anyone who wants to be realistic about politics and power needs to realize is this fact.
Enemies.
Elizabeth Swann- “Prepare every vessel that floats.”
The geek in me knows that is Ed Low’s flag, but it fits the description.
1 comments
Author
Vent Hole