Robot Jazz

Mary Boykin Chesnut's Diary from Dixie  ends on a haunting note.  She recounts how one of her friends, with whom she often corresponded, complained that she was receiving fewer and fewer missives from her. Mary's rationale was grim: "I do not write often now, not for want of something to say, but from a loathing of all I see and hear, why dwell upon those things?" When I read those words, a fitting conclusion to a chronicle that began with wild patriotism but ended in ashes and blood, I sympathized with her. Inspired by her diary, I started this, well, certainly not a diary from Dixie, but rather a Blog of Breakdown, and, like her, I find it increasingly difficult to chronicle the day-by-day descent of my country into ruination.   👹👹👹👹👹 Case in point, the murder of Alex Pretti at the hands of CBP goons.  As with the murder of Renee Good, Alex, a Veterans Administration nurse, was executed in broad daylight, this time by being shot in the back roughly ten ti...

  This is an entry I've been avoiding for some time because it will be an emotionally charged exercise for me. After all, it is not an easy thing to anticipate the end of your country. Ever since the re-election of Donald Trump - after the self-profession of sexual predation to Billy Bush (who laughed like a hyena), after the botched COVID response that killed tens of thousands, after the felony convictions, and after the insurrection that put 130 capitol police in the hospital and almost ended the Republic - I knew America was headed for the precipice because, as the ancients tell us, no society has survived long when its people have lost their political virtue.  The question was only one of time. How long would it take?  💀💀💀💀💀 Now that 2025 has concluded, I can look back and say, yeah, that went as poorly as I expected. Actually, no. It was worse  than I expected. I anticipated a repeat of Trump's shambolic first year of his first term: chaotic staff assignmen...