Activity As Tolerated

State Department denies Tillerson called Trump a 'moron' --Meghan Keneally for ABC News

If I was into this stiff upper lip business, like my former follower Mark, then I would just wade in with a High Castle analysis, in equal parts pernicious and praiseworthy of Rufus Sewell as John Smith, whose series son did the right thing, turning himself in to the American Reich to be destroyed due to his muscular dystrophy,  
I almost followed suit, with a different diagnosis, almost, and ultimately may not have a choice. My shins are emaciated, like my outmoded hardware. My family is at war over the matter, and the assholes from Adult Protection Services are salivating at the bit to put me away, in the Belmont Avenue hellhole, but a few things are holding me off. Control, the right to say no, and a race to save my published work. I can blame this vendor, but only in part. The power chair isn't bad, whether or not he overcharged me. It drives well. I remain conflicted about keeping it. Adapting to it is something else. I was over ridden, by fearsome matrons in their 60's over replacing my furnishings with a hospital bed, can't use that either, my father, his sister, Debra Horne and Trudy Richardson, favorite niggers to hate, annihilated my personal effects, and I am virtually choking to death to lose the 52 year old West African immigrant keeping me alive. She is Muslim, hyper and ignorant as much as caring. We clash daily. She is rough and hurts: only when these ruthless Marxists do their final assessment can I lose Sarrin, if I choose. We all have to fail biologically-- but I just keep taking too many punches, and my ligaments are starting to buckle. Holding my weight, which just eight weeks ago I could manage, is now being contested. Arthritis. But I still have some fight, my hair matted beyond rescue, at the moment.

I lost approximately 18 social media accounts since October, in my semi-anguished outcry, perhaps rightly. Old invalids moaning, after all. Credit Austin for staying with me, along with some others, but I am a bit sore at Mark Antro. He has the right to drop what accounts he pleases, but I'm his ally and thought we were friends, and I mean friends. I am too battle scarred to have a cougar interest in him, but I support him. He seemed puzzled by what he claimed were my 'attacks'. What attacks? For me an attack is telling Paul Krugman he is a fucking fascist at heart. That's an attack.

I always respected Mark and defended him against his critics; having tuned down my woe meter, however, I gained 3 or 4, including, inexplicably, Ed Rogers. Unless I am in error, I remember Ed's more active political currency. I respect his voice, and in the revolving door of preference, followed him earlier, having dropped Jennifer Rubin. I only 'unfollowed' Ed as a traffic issue, tweeted a positive on his Trump tabloid piece. Voila. I've no idea why I've been so graced, and mentioned it to my novelist poet colleagues with astonishment, as only the Trinity knows if the universe has a contracted byline left for a vulgar Italian in her spastic frailty. Is a Principal calling Trump a moron insubordination? If it's merely academic, I tweeted to mogul man "to get his fucking act together". Nothing doing.