“I locked the door to my own cell and I lost the key.”
It’s another riveting edition of Fonda’s Book of Hours. Today’s shit got pretty dark so I’m wheeling back around to the beginning here to tell you exactly that. I let my mind wander and understandably it goes to some places that some people would rather avoid in their leisure time. I get it and I don’t fault you so if that sounds like your current mindset, feel free to skip this entry entirely.
I technically don’t need to do this little exercise. I’ve already written two things, one of them even public facing. But it’s been a bit since I’ve done my thing so I feel like I’m slacking. Can’t strengthen a muscle you never train.
Hell of an accurate song for my shuffling skills to pull out of the gloom and doom that is September 25th 2026. I’m still sick as fuck, some chest cold directly sent from Hell. I take a minor consolation that Jude has it too, it’s likely he’s the one who gave it to my hermit like self.
Speaking of, he’s currently basking in AI-generated nostalgia porn made for Gen X and their need for validation and finally some goddamned recognition. I find it endearing. Who am I to shit on his parade? To be fair, they really do seem like the middle child of the current generations. They’re simultaneously proud of the childhood neglect their parents inflicted on them insisting it was the foundation of their success and very open about admitting it wasn’t what they wanted or needed their childhood to be.
Speaking as someone born of and raised by late-blooming Boomers I was half in and half out of the same childhood Gen X claims. A whole generation of people wildly unprepared and almost unwilling raising kids, having absolutely no clue what they’re doing with very little instruction from the previous generation to help and they just winged it.
AKA every single fuckin’ generation before or since.
I know people in my generation who had kids and they’re just fucking up in different ways than their parents. There’s some growth and some improvement, but to acknowledge that we have to admit there’s probably some that happened with Boomers too. It was just the shit they came from was so bad one way or another, small improvements don’t shine through as much. Sure, I didn’t get pummeled with fists, but I damn well got the bad knocked out of me with a backhand, a belt or a spoon. Sure, I wasn’t emotionally blackmailed and manipulated as much as I saw my grandparents do to my parents even as an adult, but damn they sure did try, huh?
The human race is just a series of baby steps to something greater. The fact that we think we’re capable of something greater at all is what gets me. I love it and I sincerely hope the species hangs onto that as long as it can manage to do it with some sense of hope, kindness and good behind it.
All things in very short supply in 2026. It feels like humanity is at a checkpoint. Saving game, do not turn off the console. Where we end up from here is the choice being made right now as I type this. I really, really don’t want to go into the daily lunacy unleashed by a grotesque caricature of a human being that currently runs this shithole country. But what I will say is living from history, the shit they’ll write about in the history books so long as we manage not to continue our rush to be the first species on this planet to successfully push themselves to total extinction with no outside interference. Why are we letting a historically horrible shell of a human being do all the things he has? I wonder if the average person realizes the holes they’re seeing in society are the gapes that have always existed for bad things to get through, they’re just getting wider. More obvious. We are still only trying to treat they symptoms and not the cause because duh. How the fuck can you fix a system that’s initial design is one where we all play an unwinnable game. One where a very select few of us start out on Boardwalk and the rest are born into and trapped inside of Baltic Avenue. And the rules change depending on which part of the board you start at or manage to claw your way onto.
Fuck. 30 minutes in and already that piece of shit and his wanna-be warlord antics have crept into the forefront. Fuck off.
The things that should just be conspiracy theories trapped inside the smoky rooms of future burnouts or behind the tinfoil curtains of someone who is a prime example of why mental health care should be a much bigger focus on a federal level in the United States are right out in the open, barely a blip on the news ticker, talked about briefly by suited, smiling anchors who quickly move on to focusing your ever fleeting attention on the real news: someone’s dog did something adorable today AND a community of people who have very little pooled their scarce resources to help an elderly human among them retire from doing the bidding of a multi-billionaire so he can have another mega yacht to tow a long side his super mega yacht on the way to his cannibal murder island.
What the fuck is this species doing right now? Sincerely. Just a quick examination of reality is enough to make you yearn for a time before vaccines, not so that you can experience measles in-full, but simply to escape to a time where you weren’t quickly being priced out of your ability to simply survive. Goddamn.
Since I know I shouldn’t be allowed AT ALL to fuck with time travel, were it to ever actually exist, I guess I should sort my shit out and do something about it on a level that I actually have access to do good on, eh? Whatever the fuck that means.
The older I get the more I see George Carlin’s cynicism was an at all time high towards the end of his life. He had managed to make it seem mocking for the majority of his public facing career. The court jester pointing out the obvious and waiting for the adults in the room to have a few light bulb moments and maybe get off their asses and fix some shit. They never did and so far as I can see anyone who tries to gets their piece knocked off the game board pretty fuckin’ fast.
I don’t want to die a cynic. I already feel like I was born one and have gradually had to let hope into the small cracks of my armor, a little at a time or I’ll become exactly who I hate. But I don’t blame a lot of the people I see as mythical beings/heroes for dying cynics themselves. It’s really, really fucking hard not to. It’s really fucking hard to look at a world who has made it it’s mission to tell you who you are and what you’re capable of, which doesn’t amount to a whole hell of a lot and definitely doesn’t match the fantastic possibilities that live in your head and your heart, and say “No, but also fuck you. I’m not going to let your bullshit harden the small flickers of goodness I continue to fan the flames of.” But it’s necessary.
