Since I am here, finally sweltering before Mayday, a word: Neil Patrick Harris' portrayal of Jeffrey Dahmer in CI's "Want" was not one of the franchise's stronger episodes. Harris' public indifference to being outed, which he responded to with a shrug in so many monosyllables, perhaps interfered with the suspension of disbelief, a common conceit about performance which I don't think quite captures why we watch, either to admire or disdain. John Tagman was just a little too pat, his torture just this shy of too nascent, to explain why Dahmer's cannibalism suffices as an answer to gay panic, if that is what it was, his psyche being one of our species most distorted, almost immune to the subversive dark humor of Hannibal, but what stays with me about that episode is Erbe's rebuff to D'Onofrio, serving as the last line of the teleplay: What a man to go bat for, since Goren saw reason's for leniency in Tagman's need to thwart abandonment.
When earlier this evening I pushed back against Rudy Giuliani's traditional appellation of "madman"
it was not to defend Earnest, merely to remind everyone that we need to stop engaging in lazy recoils. Earnest may have exhibited sociopathic tendencies for a significant length of time before New Zealand served as his trigger, just as Michael may have been engaging in behavior indicative of a cry for help before his alleged exploits. Labeling it, as Caitlin Flanagan does, as something beyond conception, is a mistake. Omnivorous primates all have an emotional range and degree, well adjusted or not so able to cope, even if we concede the former mayor, who's been blunt before, is attempting to shield Trump from blame. The president is responsible, certainly, for his bully tenor, but placing liability on his doorstep for heinous spree kills goes a bridge too far. Nothing in his candidacy or his excise of duty as commander in chief suggests he thinks slaughter in places of worship is beneficial.
But tonight I would like to address my remarks particularly to this city and particularly to the Ukraine--a city and a republic that has meant so much to the Soviet Union and so much to the world, Richard Nixon.
Diffidence. The sole follower of my blog and I accidentally bumped into each other at the mail slots, and said the normal random things people say, my primary worry driving out in the frigid cold, and my ex, poor Frank, modern serf if there ever was, informed me his incestuous issue had a heart attack, and I'm guilty of glib indifference, and thus, if I can be so self-aware of how cold I am, how can I expect anyone on social media to lend me a hand? Whatever you read of the intelligence, the retrenched white hot anger, you'd look at me, see emotional wounds in my eyes, straggly hair, need for better grooming, look away, feel pity, dehumanize, wonder how my teeth became so damaged, and then, we have the massive liberal wailing over Rudy's jingoism. Some of us understand what Guiliani was saying, in translation: Barack Obama is thoroughly infused with a multiculturalism which is ill suited for the sovereign head of the United States, but he did it in a reactionary way that isn't being nice to those of mixed race socialist heritage. I don't think anyone would disagree that Obama's mother made herself an outcast, and by some miracle her boy navigated this without turning into inner city refuse. I'm the one who managed that, so accept my lot and shut the fuck up already.
Let me save some of you some time: I am no longer a patriot, and within reason, I am allowed to express this. I think our two party system has finished its course and no longer truly amounts to anything. We nominate centrists and essentially choose which moderate we like best on center right or center left. And I only have one image of Hillary Clinton when she was the first lady of Arkansas. Her hair was shoulder length, held in place by a black headband, while she was assuring a national interviewer that Jennifer Flowers "was just a friend."
I can know nothing else about the Clintons, but know that this duplicity speaks volumes about the limits of political representation, and I am that very rare thing: a violent brain damaged female who frightens patrician sensibilities, driven off from a number of online communities, not an easy thing, because I should be medicated. A helpless anarchist, but an anarchist none the less. I don't believe raping women is an effective intimidation tactic, and therein lies the difference between an Isis recruit and myself.
Am I really that hard? I am not the only disabled American who has been disenfranchised, not the only victim of crime and abuse, but with my enemies, probably. I've reached a place where I'd like them to feel what it is like, to be trapped in a senior living home because of one defiant choice when you were 23, stabbed in the back by activists you thought you could trust, and a Puerto Rican Italian man who should be dead, who is a living symbol of how health care is bankrupting the fucking country and dragging me down because there are no resources to spare to give me a better outcome, all I can feel about his son's insatiable ability to impregnate his idiot genes into women is that his heart attack serves him right. Therein is exactly what happened to my humanity.
