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“Eventually, Coleen calls. We have coffee. Coleen asks, “Why haven’t you called?” I’m inadequate at breaking up too. I say, “I’ve been really busy.” “Will you call later?” “Not sure.” Our relationship won’t end in fireworks. Instead, it’ll end in a whimper. I see myself as she does, a bad boyfriend. Coleen is frustrated, exasperated that I’ve kept her at a distance. We sip coffee. The world passes. I’m convinced that if I continue trying, one day I’ll succeed.”

“Capital sees politicians as a means to their ends, just another employee, or a potential bankable asset. And politicians, whoring themselves to the highest bidder, write their laws for a seat at the table. Some politicians aren’t directly on the take but, it’s hard to imagine, that, while on the public’s dime, they’re at least not on a job interview. Capital rewards their loyal underlings with no-show jobs for their idiot relations.”

“To-do list: 1. Science – stop people from getting sick and dying. 2. Keep people economically solvent – as you request their help in fighting the pandemic. Some states do better at one. Others, at the other. None strike the right balance. Everything collapses. Utter failure. One party is full of bad ideas that their rivals merely rubber-stamp. Like a reverse Robin Hood, they scapegoat the powerless, while simultaneously handing out checks to the richest stakeholders. The other party has few ideas, except for a few bad ones of their own that they throw into the mix. Businesses, flush with cash, appear almost embarrassed to take public money. But they soon get over their initial shame.”

“Later, Tara and other leaders, roughly the same age, lead marches through the streets. Like lambs to the slaughter, we follow. We target the banks. They’re put on notice that their day is over. It’s street theater and people who work there watch the show from windows, high above. Next, the girls lead us to the Chamber of Commerce where plainclothes ex-military protect the movers and shakers from a scattering of college girls and a collection of workers who need better jobs. They watch us through mirrored sunglasses and communicate via hidden microphones and listening devices. It’s a routine that everyone, except us, knows.”

“Later, some of his supporters decide that Antifa orchestrated the whole thing. It’s as if Antifa, probably taking advantage of a group-discount rate at the MAGA store, suddenly show up decked out in all this crap, I mean, merchandise, and duped the poor, pathetic Make America Great Again crowd. Sometimes reality is an orphan in the valley of the true believers.”

“Almost all the real journalists are gone. Even the successful are in danger of being squashed by mainstream platforms for reasons other than their commitment to a sustainable business model. Many real journalists self-publish on Substack or put out content, free of interference, on Locals, Rumble, or Telegram. These outlets hopefully will continue to promote freedom of speech and allow the mainstream to continue promoting innocuous travel images as well as cute animal memes, providing a kitty’s smirk isn’t deemed to be too subversive that it undermines the electorate’s faith in our government or our media. Don’t ask the mainstream companies what they think of independent platforms. They lie, a lot, and you’ll probably get the answer you suspect. Replace them. All of them.”

“I know Jimmy believes that the company’s evaluations are meaningless. Mildred appears naïve. Employees are always surprised when they’re let go and they have no idea who to turn to. They’ve heard of Jimmy. He exists in some mythical employment realm, like the Yeti; and he’s as popular, with management, as Oscar Schindler once was with ex-Nazis. I tell Mildred that Jimmy will get back to her. For Mildred, it’s a long wait. I hang up, leaving her to the lonely world of the recently fired.”

“The front ramp is gradually lowered, in slow electronic increments. A couple of dozen backpackers stand, inside the lower deck’s muted light, like an army of extraterrestrials. Paros is refilling with English, German, French, Italian, Scandinavian, Australian, and South African tourists. The town remains in motion. Some come. Some go. The cycle appears endless. The entire world appears to wash up on Paros.”

“The way it’s going… (166 words) A foul-mouthed Pee-wee Herman runs for president. People finally realize what a racist, xenophobic, misogynistic, and homophobic bigot he is. He’s clearly not a politician. Rather, he’s someone who speaks his mind, and that makes him relatable. Herman runs against a faceless, forgettable career backbencher who’s been wrong on every issue for half a century, has become a multimillionaire without a legal avenue to attaining his fortune, and who you’re told you have to vote for because he’s experienced. Last year, we were told that the politician had a lobotomy, but the alternative is even worse. The voters will be hit with a tsunami of stomach-turning, deceptive ads and told that they have to vote for one of the two, or else they’ll be throwing away their democracy. In four years, they’ll run Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s coat for president. No one will notice. His coat will have more integrity than all of the idiots in recent years they’ve presented to us so we can confirm them.”