Saturday, August 15th, 2020
I am not a mental health professional, nor do I play one on Zoom calls, but I get a sense scrolling through Saturday Twitter and Instagram that there is a certain gritty fatigue that has set in.
We hear, almost hourly, new details about the political dealings behind the gutting of the United States Postal Service, and our response, our outrage, has a squeaky, rusty quality to it. This! Oh man, even more of this! And of course that! And our options are—make some noise! Summon our representatives back into session! Have referees drag these guys (like the duo the General Accounting Office ruled are ‘invalid’ occupants of their acting Homeland Security posts) out of their offices!
Police and peaceful protesters are clashing as I type in downtown Chicago.
White supremacists and a much, much larger bunch of people protesting white supremacists clashed this afternoon in Stone Mountain, Georgia. No, not the state park with the confederate losing guys on the side of the monadnock—they’re facing off in the town of Stone Mountain itself.
Maybe my “sense of fatigue” is just based on how I’m feeling about events at the moment. It’s a read on one guy, this guy here. Me.
But somehow, I don’t think so.