The news was grim this morning. They’ve corrupted the US Postal Service in advance of projected widespread mail-in voting. The appointee PMG has gutted the entire administrative structure of the organization to centralize power around himself. I have lost faith that any ballot I mail in will arrive to be counted properly, and that is the plan. It’s clear that this administration will stop at literally nothing to preserve itself and by extension, the dying GOP.
I’m a little disappointed in myself for not having more foresight than about 90 days out. For me, this was the bough that broke the camel’s back. My first thoughts are of flight: I don’t want to be here when Congress goes to remove the incumbent from office, led by a troupe of MPs, and are met with a mercenary blockade in the White House. That will be America’s darkest day, if the current atmosphere isn’t dark enough. We should have made plans to leave, to emigrate out of here before the real nastiness begins.
But…here we are. Even if this country succumbs to the acid that has been poured over its joints and is coursing through its veins, there’s still a chance a vaccine for COVID will appear and perhaps, once vaccinated, we’ll be permitted a window to escape north.
Now, imagine: we wake up every day to this, to news like this. We are angry from the moment we wake up and it doesn’t stop until we go to bed. We live in fear of infection, and of fascism.