BY GLENN SHAHEEN
heaven
I sometimes think I should buy a gun, that leftists as a whole need to own more guns. Then I think about how a gun costs as much as a PS5, and I don’t even have one of those yet. Or an XBOX Series S. Not sure which I’m leaning towards first tbh.
People (with stock in gun corporations) will say you need a gun to defend your home in case a burglar breaks in. Like, what, I’d kill a person for taking my PS5, which, again, I don’t have? The idea is, what if this burglar, this mystery fellow, was going to kill me or a loved one. It happens! It’s a lawless country with ineffectual police forces. Or, wait, the police are a good thin blue line? These Gun Companies need to get their messages straight.
I’ve never known anyone the police have actually helped. We got burgled when we were out of the house in Kalamazoo and the cops said we should buy a gun. Hey, then the burglar would’ve gotten that, too! They wouldn’t do anything when it was obvious our burnt out white neighbor had done it. His parents funded his whole life, including the meth.
Midwesterners really need to calm down. Supposed breadbasket but all they can offer is violence and racism caked in the worst kind of lemon icing.
I fired some of my brothers’ guns before and it’s scary and fun. The handguns are harder probably because of some sort of physics thing. The AR-15 makes it so easy to hit the target – just point the barrel at whatever you want to kill (overpriced paper target that changes color when you hit it so you can see from a hundred yards down range).
Who really wants to kill anybody? Suppose I had listened to the Kalamazoo cops, there was a burglar, and I killed him. Blood all over the inside of the house, the carpet. He drops my wife’s costume jewelry. Certain fellows out there who believe in good guys and bad guys get a real rush of blood to the crotch. Calm down!
Even as you and I are talking about this there has been another mass shooting. This one, maybe it’s the worst yet. I am speaking to you from the past, but I know this will be true when this is published, when this is read. Maybe the shooter was an incel, maybe the shooter was a white supremacist. The shooter was an American. I hope nobody you know got killed this time. I hope nobody I know got killed. Maybe the PS6 is out. Maybe the PS7.
EARTH
Marzipan. Marshmallow fluff. Measles. Morocco. Maine. Mixed nuts. Mulholland Drive. Misery. Mystery. Marbles. Monocle des mon oncle. Mr. Mxyptlk. Mephisto Waltz. Moorings. Maniacs (rude to call someone even in jest). Mofungo. Miracles, mistakes. Married couples. Married couples buying you a drink at the bar and giving you a look. Mudbugs. Macon Whoopie. Miscarriages, I’m sorry. Mar A Lago. Michelin Men. Mycelial growth. Mitochondria. Mixtapes, I was good at them. Mix CDs, I was good at them too but a friend said that doesn’t count, only tapes count. Minidiscs, remember those? Misery, what have you done to stop it? Mackinac fudge. Magazines less and less. Money, ha ha ha ha ha. Murders and/or murderers. Metastasis. Maury Povich. Marvels. Mexico. Make me an offer. Make me a real boy. Mother Goose. Monkeys. Men. Messes and those who clean them. Muchachos. Mes amis. Meltdowns, a fun name. Moss. Mary Magdalene, a real one. Marvel Comics. Marsupials. More or less. Maybe more. Machinery and machinists. Mobile homes. Mangos. Mealworms. Michigan beer, the best in the country they’ll say. Meat and/or meateaters. Make me! Motors under every hood on the verge of bursting into flame. Montreal, the size of. Miꞌkmaq. Matchmakers. Melange. Marvel, Captain (DC). Montgomery Biscuits, a minor league baseball team with a biscuit mascot whose tongue is a pat of butter. Minor leaguers. Motives. Markets and those who watch them. Morals. McCarthyism back and better than ever. Mincemeat not even what you’d expect. Me and you. Malaise. Moscato. Miners dead in a collapse, get some more miners. Major leaguers. Music, in tune and out. Mostly Harmless. Magazines, more and more. Mutton, and millet. Mead, even. Maids. Moral panics, get a life! Marvel, Captain (Marvel). Mickey Mouse and his beloved Minnie. Mugs. Mugshots. Molatav cocktails. Midafternoon drinks. Mondays. Muckrakers. Mania. Moonshine, but legally. Masters, we thought we had none. Misdirection. Mali, Malawi. Mobiles above the baby’s body. Mistletoe. Millions dead and we’re crybabies if we mention it. Mentionables. Merck. Memorial Supply Superstore. Materhorn. Matter, and energy. Matter: A Journal of Political Poetry and Comment, edited by Virginia Konchan and me. Missile defense grid. Mustaches. Muscles, which I eat. Mussels, which I eat. Mushrooms. MCs. Mellow out. Mongol Empire, once. Monster trucks. Molasses, a tasty treat that can kill, too! Muzzles. Mesh. Moguls. Michaels, including my brother. Misuses. Moldy food on good china. Maladjusted youths. Militias well organized against people I actually care for. Monitors. MiG fighters. Moist (had to do it to em). Must see TV. Martians (concept). Martins (people). Martins (bird). Martins (Doc). Museums to the dead. Maritime law. Mosh pits. Mech suits in comics and tv shows. Mighty fine folk. Minneapolis. Mustn’t offend. Mewling from the gutter. Monsters and those who stake them.
hell
After the 2016 election I started watching fail videos online. The only thing that made me feel better was to see Americans hurting themselves. No way of course to tell who the people breaking their legs on skateboards or burning their faces with fireworks voted for. Statistically more of them probably didn’t vote for Trump anyway. Eventually I switched to win/fail compilations. A fail video was more interesting if I didn’t necessarily see it coming.
For the world, for the international stage, it’s good for America to weaken, to fail. It’s good for Americans to die, to be killed. America, one of the worst plagues on the world, one of its greatest hopes. Trump and his buds hurt the United States – shouldn’t I want to celebrate that?
I live here, my friends and loved ones live here, and even the two or three people I really personally have issues with live here though I do not wish them any particular misfortune. Maybe like they pop up in a viral video getting headbutted by a goat or slipping on some raw sewage.
On the internet we like to believe we’re all little cards holding up history’s castle. Any one of us could tumble the whole thing.
When I was 24 my girlfriend of two months thought she was pregnant. I was relieved when she found out she wasn’t, but then she broke up with me because I was relieved.
Politicians cause people I know to suffer, to lose rights even their grandparents had. If it erodes what we know of as The United States of America, isn’t that good? My suffering, my friend’s suffering? Shouldn’t we each suffer to help destroy this country? Little tapeworms in the dead fox’s stomach. Time’s running out for us, too, but we can nosh on some primo vittles for a lil bit.
Kool Aid in the fridge. It won’t stay good forever.
As a kid, I hated the United States. I never got over that. Even moving here, the eighth graders had such zealous pride in their country. What’d it ever even do for them? In Lake City, Florida?
This blue cheese has a particularly strong concentration of histamines, and it causes my throat to close a bit, my tongue to burn. Laurie asks why I do this to myself, but it’s true that I like it.
I don’t personally have even one friend who is against the right to have an abortion. Even the politicians who say they’re against it know they’ll be fine, they’ll always be able to get one or pay for one or shuffle some woman under the table.
Life is just a parade of worse and worse moments until we’re cool with being dead.