Folks, History: I got off on entirely the wrong foot on this this morning and I didn't post even that I noticed. I did. I had seen it in the news earlier so this is not an imperfect defense. I had just sent X-2 a text link to a story about the federales invasion of Portland, Oregon. "Trump could do this, on November 3" I wrote. She responded with a text on Congressman Lewis' passing. Which I had already seen. And then followed up with another one, a link to Congressman Lewis' speech before the Democratic National Convention in 2012. "It's only five minutes long. Every time I watch it I get tears in my eyes." Okay, fine, so I watched and listened. It was a wonderful speech but I got aggravated. My reaction in those five minutes was "This is like a time capsule. This is not that country anymore and this is no time for teary-eyed nostalgia." I shouldn't have gotten aggravated. I shouldn't have gotten so aggravated that I deliberately avoided Congressman Lewis' death for the rest of the day, but I did and I did.
Fifty per cent of my brain is devoted to this coming election and coming off what I had just read about Portland, the speech was not nostalgic for me, it did not engender warm, grateful sorrow at Congressman Lewis' death, it made me bitter. For about half of me believes, really believes, that John Lewis' life was in vain; that Russia and Donald Trump and 60,000,000 scumbags replaced that country with the Amerika 2.0 that I had just read about in Portland, that we saw in the Federal charge on the Lafayette Square protesters, that we see every single day from this man. The speech was the Edmund Pettus Bridge that Congressman Lewis is standing in front of in the photograph, and that he marched in 1965, only to get turned back and beaten and jailed and nearly killed. It has been the Edmund Pettus Bridge all over again since the Catastrophe and this morning that was a bridge too far.
