would be that the Virus cares more about you than Mitch McConnell, Steve Mnuchin, Donald Trump, Mark Zuckerberg and the whores they rode in on combined.  Actually quite a bit more  as at least Corona, nouvelle, knows it depends on your somewhat survival to proliferate and it doesn’t seem that band of fuckwits figures you or us into any of their equations…equations which may or may not have included a worldwide meltdown sparked off by, as the Fuckwit in Twit so cluelessly put it, “one bad apple”. The situation might well be a little more nuanced than Fox News is letting him in on but at the moment I was writing this, a sunny Sunday morning in Unreality, USA with Brent’s Cessna droning lazily overhead looking for something or other in the Buffalo Hills, it doesn’t seem like the problem will be going away anytime soon.

Even in the unlikely case of it being an individual rotten apple it’s not exactly the apples’ fault the orchards were planted by slaves on the corpses of indigenous people, any of whom

might still harbor legitimate grievances.   Out here in Unreality, meanwhile, we have ponds,

not grievances; Frogs above, lowers below, breakfast [not shown],

lunch [below], uppers [not shown, yet]…and a Dinner Porch.

Magpies fledged as phoebes dawdled,

dogs dozed

and things were dry dry dry.

On the first of June at last the last of the Phoebes fledged…it took a lot of yelling but by

lunchtime he’d joined his two siblings and hardworking parents in getting on with their lives.

Meanwhile by now a street gang of adolescent magpies has been ruling the willows around the upper ponds for over a week…we’ve seen as many as six together but from the racket there may be even more running unrepentantly raucously rampant in the currently abundant foliage.

AAA was out with a new fuel pump and after considerable trial and error had the ’82 running

on one tank [until Monday, anyway] which was followed by a slight spit of precip and rainbow

of extreme brevity.  Dry again, immediately…

[upper pond, warming morning]

with snowfalls of willow seeds on dog hairs, a moon on the way and tamarisks.

After more than two weeks locked down, so to speak, I ventured east and northwest into

California, Free County of Modoc,

where I turned out to be one of three people [none were employees] wearing a mask while foraging in the Holiday and the only one in the Hardware…no covid there, no concerns.

West over Cedar Pass for gas at Rabbit Traxx and down a surprisingly dryer than ever

Surprise Valley to lunch in Nevada, six minutes off the highway, which might as well have been

six or sixty miles to all appearances and home to

Wall Spring with another couple of weeks’ supplies laid in at the end of an eventful

and particularly painful one.  Abetted by our Small Shit of a chickenshit leader the Police have been given carte blanche to run riot over anyone THEY decide to deem not non-violent or any reporters perceived a Threat as demonized by his Very Guilty Government as my friend Steve Stern has documented much more thoughtfully than I…and run riot they have…with, happily, the Military to be Mobilized if any governor fails to act according to Dipshit’s latest whims no matter how many “overrated generals” object.   All the while “we” are assured by our self-ordained true lawn ordure President that our Second Amendment Rights* will be forever held sacred, which is not, however, to presume any person not a loyal follower of you-know-who-and-what will be included in said sacrament.

Nonetheless and despite the national dialogue does seem to be clearly focused on the sanctioned brutality behind all these deaths and the embedded systemic aberrations responsible which lends hope, hope, hope that we can truly see law ‘n’ order for what it is; lawn ordure, shit on the national lawn.

Time to start cleaning this up, people, all the way back.  The slave-dealers didn’t “Rise Again”, they never went away.  Put the fuckers DOWN.

 

*That would be your inalienable right to carry assault rifles into whatever shopping mall or State Assembly that makes you feel uneasy, right?