Raging questions

THE QUESTION: Did something make you really angry this week, and what made that happen? If not, why not?



Dear Donald,

You and I haven’t met, and likely, we never will meet. But I’m angry.

I have been following your twitter feed, even though I don’t have an account any more, but I’ve been checking in to see what you stay up so late to share with the world. You’re very keen to share how you’re travelling to Europe and seeing other heads of state, offering a kind of bread and butter letter to your foreign hosts. It is a gilded finish on your already gilded life.

What I don’t see on your twitter feed are thoughts about the thousands of children, frightened their parents will be deported. I don’t see empathy for the tens of thousands who hope they can wake without pain, or even alive, breathing, as they wait to see if they can afford health care. They kind of can – for now.

I don’t see any care for the unfettered sale of firearms, which fell so many innocents, the world stands in awe and horror. I see no thought for a future rich with any of the animals, the environment, the air we breathe, the water which feeds every living thing. Science has no value to you, technology is an enemy except in cases where it benefits you directly.

Instead, I see a petty, selfish man who sits in a golden chair, on a golden plinth, with a thin tie and ordinary suit, bitter because he is not universally adored, peddling seeds of discord to grow a national carpet of hate, with the fate of the world instead settling on other shoulders. 

With dismay and contempt,
A US citizen of the world

In the course of a working day, it’s the machines and their random no longer workings where comfort is found. 
An engine runs, a computer computes, a copier copies, the AC cools, a program runs, a display displays, until the engine doesn’t run or the computer doesn’t compute or the copier doesn’t copy or the AC doesn’t cool or the program doesn’t run, or a display doesn’t display.
These events are often unpredicted while also being predictable. 
The engine has no spark, the computer’s kernel crashed, the copier is out of paper, the AC… well it never really cooled in the first place, the display’s script didn’t shut down properly. 
It’s the not-machines and their unpredictabilities that are less comforting. 
The “C” student given a “B” who thinks they deserve an “A”. The colleague who says ‘you should have stayed home” as soon as you arrive. The co-worker who keeps things interesting by being predictably unpredictable.
Fixing things like the busted toilet this weekend is work that is worth the trouble, it’s the trouble with work that isn’t worth fixing that flushes the days away.


The cable modem went out 10 times on Tuesday, eleven if I count the time it froze while I was ordering a new one online.

The modem arrived Thursday on a sweltering day. 

Connects seamlessly with Comcast declared the box.

My son and I had it all wired up lickety-split.

Got to the Comcast page and entered my credentials to no effect, but there was a contact number.

I had to use my cell phone, which was hot and slippery due to my sweating.

The automated number didn’t recognize my input, but decided to reset my modem while I protested, hung up and recalled.

Got the robot voice again.  It decided to reset the modem again, while I cried out, “No, NO, NOOO!”

Third call, the robot bitch again! What is with her?!

On my miraculous fourth call, I heard a human voice saying, “If you don’t respond, I am going to have to hang up in thirty seconds…”

Respond? Hang up?  What the hell?  My son said, “Is your phone mute on?”

Well didn’t I feel stupid?

I turned the mute off and had a very nice chat with Ray who hooked our modem up a treat.

Silly me.

NEXT WEEK’S QUESTION: What is your favorite childhood memory of summer?



Posted by MMJ

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