The Angst is upon me once again, dear reader.  Of course, when is it not?  I’ve had a pernicious and acute case of the The Angst since about 1993.  Much like rust, it never sleeps.
I remain irreparably disappointed in Americans.  They collectively lost their critical thinking skills, seemingly intentionally,  which has left them pathetically gullible and easily bullied.  They deny they’re being bullied because they figured out that if they just side with the bullies, the bullies will leave them alone.  They don’t need to be beaten into submission: they’ve already submitted.  They were not given toy guns as children.  As adolescents they engaged in sport without scores being kept, with the very concept of competition being deemed dangerous because with competition come the concepts of defeat, failure and loss, and you are far too special and delicate to feel any of those things.  They reach adulthood without being able to conjugate the verb “to fight.”  They have received participation awards and taken them seriously, even though everyone else got one too.  With no coping mechanisms to deal with the idea of experiencing a negative emotion ever, it was inevitable that they could only expect the world to change to suit the sensitive needs of their fragile little psyches.  They were taught that there is nothing worse than being offended and thus they were totally justified in absolutely destroying anyone who offended them.  Naturally, any behavior or idea, person or group they didn’t agree with became “offensive.”  And the cowardly Americans went along with it!  They’re watching as businesses they love and people they’re friends with are getting “cancelled,” and their dominant thought seems to be, “Well, better them than me.”  Should I be surprised that most Americans’ first instinct when seeing a crime in progress or a person in distress in need of assistance is to pull out their phone and start recording?
Americans would do well to rememeber that they have the ability to say “no.”  They need to get far more comfortable telling mobs to go fuck themselves.  And also, never underestimate the persuasive power of a broken jaw.

N.P.: “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road” – Lowell Fulson