The gaseous contents of the Republican soul sees no value but in ‘values’. These values carry nothing but a plutonic weight. They pretend toward a fixity that does not exist. They feature no moral compass beyond the cunning of Old Testament restriction. No doctrinal Prince of Peace provides comfort to this mindset beyond the great and welcoming Hell they envision for others.
The present administration shares no warmth or goal for the people, any people. The Heaven they intend for themselves bases it’s golden number in opposition. They enjoy the right side of the binary.
I use the word Republican but these feasters exceed the idea of party. The adepts just know that the world is a thing, a thing to corner, to collect, to devour. These words feel terrible to invoke. I mean, to consider such a ghastly register as the only view of the world and thus yourself. At some point we turn away, because we are alive. Alive just to autumn’s changes, wind in trees, abundance and sustenance in the mycorrizhal Earth, the mutual compact. None of your bullshit, then, this election year and in the world beyond.
