Cette longue nouvelle mditative, potique, grne l’indicible. Non seulement ce qui ne parvient pas sortir de soi pour devenir objectif, mais encore ce que tout le monde refuse obstinment d’couter. Ce monde, c’est le monde normal de tous ceux qui ne sont pas comme eux, les contents, les contentes, les bien assis, les gentils vivants.

We build statues for our cricket players (actors netas too) garland them with currency notes, raise their cut outs to the heavens, fast for them, write poems for them, build places of worship for them and much more causing vertigo at a fervid pace. It takes a partial slump; a defeat and we abandon the same men we worshipped. We drop them like hot potatoes, abuse them and chart out all kinds of inappropriate relationships between them and their family members in different vernaculars that echo across the length and breadth of this country on social networking sites.

Every building within the compound has been torched now, and families crunch through the broken glass inside the buildings taking pictures and videos with their cameras and cell phones. One group of young men ran through Gaddafi former house chanting slogans comparing the despot to a shoe and waving the green, red, and black flag of the opposition. Want to tell the world we were living under a dictatorship, says Yunus Ahmed, a 51 year old professor at the University of Ghar Younis who was walking through the burnt out complex today.

Guess you haven noticed all the condos and apartment buildings going up (three on Passaic Ave in just the last two years). Do you think those will be filled with older Italian Americans with their Trump flags, desperately hanging onto a warped view of what they think America should look like? Or do you think they be filled with working class people (of all shades (gasp!)) and middle class people and young people, all who tend to vote against the minority rule party currently in power. Oh, you think all the complaints at the town meetings about the townhouses are about “taxes” or “schools” or whatever other dog whistle complaint is the flavor of the day?.

I look at these women and honestly all I see is giant oversized egos in similarly comically oversized Louboutins. All the feathers and couture in the world not even Pat McGrath herself could paint that ugliness cute. Behind the Botox and fillers is just an encasing of shriveled lizard skin talking from its jealous, primitive lizard brain..

Speaking of Yamaha. A year and a half ago I bought a Ford Taurus SHO; I wanted both an American car and a good car, and this seemed to be best of breed. It was assembled in Atlanta “with pride” by American workers; the powerful and stunningly beautiful engine under its hood was made by Yamaha..