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Post by rorschalk on Dec 13, 2021 20:09:27 GMT
[capital manager's note: Doomey if you're reading this and I am totally off my rocker about this, please let me know but be kind and genteel as you can be, seeing as how I am wrong as all get out, deserving some venom, but gentle good sir, as Auntie Owl sometimes sez, "Quiet as kept." We've danced these many years, and both no stranger to a mosh pit, yes?]
sent to: Rox and Dep via vacuum tube
Just wanted to say Doomey may have rage quit or something since we're so obviously on opposite sides of the real world political spectrum, but have managed to love each other for these past 20 years. Dunno. We've entered a period of intense divide and conquer by our mysterious overlords that it may have just become too much for him to bear, although I did see Carol posting some misdirection that Rox picked up on. I guess there is hope. But right now it's you two carrying the load. I thank you and wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year with minimal humbugs.
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Post by rockefeller on Dec 13, 2021 20:35:37 GMT
Lucky he's got other persona to fall back on then. I've never seen politics discussed, so would know which side either of you were on. I'm sort of in the They're all just corporate sock puppets camp. Even the issues are all just hilariously bad informercials now. Heard a woman being interviewed by CBC on the street the other week, terrified of climate change, which she sees every day. Scared shitless of the nice warm November day we were enjoying. Don't get me started on the "pandemic."
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Post by bulldust on Dec 14, 2021 17:13:26 GMT
Moo! This Bull is usually on the opposite side of a lot of folks. He's learned just to sigh and mooooove on.
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Post by rockefeller on Dec 14, 2021 20:08:25 GMT
Everyone's on the opposite side of a lot of folks. Some of us, like me, for example, just have a hard time keeping our oddly distorted mouths shut.
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Post by deplancher on Dec 15, 2021 1:00:47 GMT
[She speaks what she’s thinking. DeP doesn’t want a Gitane or any other cigarette but now she has one in between her fingers. She may light it or she may crumble it and make like she intended it only as an offering to some unnameable god or other ancient wisdom ghost who whispers sage advice when the carousel spins too fast and some of the horses disengage and others grow wings and there’s no way to tell in advance which one you’re riding in the moment and Traffic plays Gimme Some Lovin’ and you’re older than the oldest baby celebrated as this year’s Happy New Year as far back as anyone in the village can remember.]
Oh, politics. I thought this/we were a troupe d’apolitical comédie or some such. Am I in the wrong play or is it we’ve been played?
These deep divides wear some of us down IRW realms. They gnaw through bonds heretofore thought too strong to ever be snipped. Earth is on fire. Also, we’re drowning.
Doomey maybe is simply taking a wander. A walk of contemplation somewhere private. Or wild. I hope that’s where he is and not gone from here/you/us in a rage or for any other reason. He is the centre. Well, one part of it, Rorschalk, the other part being you.
We, The Rest, dance on the periphery. Or maybe not. See reconsideration line after nine oh nine. Okay, everyone who plays a part is essential.
[Hush now, DePlancher.]
Anyway, I keep my politics in my pocket and the pocket has a zipper and the zipper has a lock and the lock has a password. It’s personal. It’s all so personal. No one can convince anyone of anything. Even the philosophers have mouths full of cheese. Each one believes what we choose to believe. Defence or substantiation no longer required.
Political convictions, much like Religious ones I have learned, can get a person killed. The End. Amen. Peace.
Let’s dance.
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