Thirty Cents

Why don’t they all just kill (me or) themselves? It’s the most I wish to witness. Yet I must deal with my decision to return (the old country). Sink or swim is the motto. All of those thoughts of sinking. The rifle barrel pressed to the back of my throat and I worry if I can reach the trigger. The Americans, remnents of my past, have actually dared to progress. And in their progression where have they gone? The down-spiral path of disarray. What a joy it must be to just glide along this life. The (manipulated and perverted version of Plato’s) noble lie working so well. That wasn’t his intention though was it? It’s not supposed to be about the lie (as it is these days) but a noble cause. Oh, are we doomed!

Part Other. (As opposed to part 2.)

Christian reconstruction-ism and christian zionism.

Drank a beer last nigh and was appalled. The bartender, after taking my money, returned only the bill part of the return change. The odd (thirty some cents) he kept as a tip. When I questioned where the change was he said/asked, “Oh, I thought you wouldn’t want that.” How Euro of him. He assumed I’d leave it for a tip and that was that. Incredible really. The increase, if you can call it that, in US productivity over the last twenty years is all about keeping the thirty cents. There is no substance anymore.

Tommi