I'm unfollowing a lot of Faceboogers this week. I really don't have time for their creepy obsessions. Somebody named Jenner. Somebody named Hanks. Somebody named Clinton. Somebody named.. I don't remember.
A lot of shit that passes for debate and conversation is just shit. Unfortunately, I have managed to get into the habit of reading it. It's because my reading is in transition. I'm rather leaving sci-fi for true detective on my way back to serious literature. I've rediscovered the London Review of Books and it reminded me that Daniel Barenboim recently gave a lecture about the importance of music education. That there is lovely. And so I might just elevate my current appetites and find myself in an awesome conversation a month or two from now. Luck be a lady.
In the meantime I've found a place for all my Facebook associates. it's a wild and crazy place called Darwin's Pub, just off the square where the pillories and gallows used to be. It's where the common folk gather to watch the pain and suffering of their fellow assholes on big screen TVs. Basically all you can do is get drunk and shout, but isn't that all they do anyway?
As I passed by the joint I could hear something like this:
A Los Angeles County sheriff's deputy pleaded guilty today to lying to FBI investigators and agreed to cooperate with prosecutors in a use-of-force case against fellow jail guards. As part of his plea, Noel Womack, 36, agreed to resign permanently from the sheriff's department and never seek employment with any law enforcement agency.
And then this:
US airport screeners missed 95% of weapons, explosives in undercover tests. According to a report, secret test operation uncovers widespread security failures.
Yay. Celebrate the defeat of the losers. This is the conversation of the day. But hey, that's the agenda at Darwin's Pub, where people celebrate the destruction of people's lives.
I'm not part of them. I have better things to do. Just thought I'd let you know.