Read Rebuke Resist
I promised myself I would remain calm and disconnected. But as I waited for the microwave to heat a cup of coffee this morning, I thought about something.
If they get through with the librarians and come for me, what will I, like Fyodor Dostoevsky once narrated, think about the moments before execution? What time-wasting actions will I regret?
Sadly, today it would be the four years I served in the uniform of my country. The ruling political party said yesterday that it was at best a joke.
It would have been better had I joined a mob, stormed the U.S. Capitol, killed a police officer, crapped on its floors, and threatened the lawmakers. Those are the present-day heroes of America. Isn't this true? (Ist es nicht wahr? for my MAGA acquaintances.)
Of course, had I done that at the time, I would probably still be in prison and wouldn’t have been included in the travesty of yesterday.
The New Normal is making me nauseated.
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