I finally got a couple hours of sleep.

The rage has dissolved into tears, and the tears into grim resolve. It’s time to wipe the tears, to do what must be done… and then… to laugh, a laughter sadder than tears.

Do I bother to draw water to drink? Do I prepare food to break the fast? This pen, and these brushes? Is there any reason to pick them up, to make marks on this paper?

How many times I’ve wondered–what was it like, in Germany, 1933?

I think about the people who voted for … I will not write that name, or let it pass my lips… the ‘good Germans’

I will not be a ‘Good German.’ I will not be a ‘Good German.’

No more, the prattle of the ‘realists.’ No more talk of following those who ‘get things done.’ There is no longer any reality worth living, but that which we take up and create for ourselves.

Love, Solidarity, Imagination…RESISTANCE!

What I think I’m seeing, is a stage where political power has become uncoupled from the economics that created it, a point where general prosperity, and the wealth it generates, is no longer an incentive for the ruling Class, but just the opposite. Why? –because they think they’ve already won the class war, and with that, would come a decrease in centralized power. A more democratic society. It makes more sense, appears less complicated, to jack up the State machinery of control by force.

Like ok… we can add billions to our wealth, doing nothing to provide for the general welfare–so why bother? We’ve already won the Class War. Now it’s just a matter of stomping out resistance from lower classes.

I think that’s where we are now.