OGT DAILY Day One Hundred and Ninety DISGUST

So we've reached a certain point of saturation I think.  At least I have.  The idiocracy is near endless.   A constant daily barrage of pure lies, falsehoods, braggadocio, threats, and vengeful attempts to upend legislation and social goods that help people.   The end goal of the current administration appears to be personal profit and power grabbing with only the thinnest veneer of pro-America rhetoric.   This near unbelievable sliming of of basic values seems beyond anyone's ability to tolerate. At this point disgust is warranted and probably protective as a way to fend off despair.   I'm just plain sick and tired.  We only have one life.  Why should we waste any time tolerating an utter fool as a leader?   Why can't we just make him and his corrupt family go away and allow us to sort out our differences on health care and economy etc... without his angry Twitter feed?  Then I am reminded by a more level headed person that he was elected by our Democratic process and we must be patient with the Democratic process in order to weed him out.  Patience and disgust.  Oil and water.  Not the best combinations.


Brook Gladstone  of On the Media interviewed her fellow host Bob Garfield this morning on how to survive this era when there seems to be an assault on the media, the First Amendment and the truth.
He made a statement that made a lot of sense and takes maturity and insight to realize.  He is tired of hearing his own righteous indignation and believes it is necessary to really listen to the voices of those with whom we disagree.   Hard to do, but the truth.   There are those in power who would love to see this country torn apart by discord.   Better Angels is an organization that seeks to create dialogue between polarized segments of our society: Trump supporters and Non-Trump supporters; the NRA crowd and the Gun Regulation lobby; Black Lives matter and the Law & Order supporters, etc...

https://better-angels.org/post-election-healing/

Steven Pinker, a Harvard based psychologist, has published a book titled Better Angels of our Nature which describes our century as actually being the most peaceful in the history of mankind.  His premise is that our increased ability to reason as civilized cultures has decreased the incidence of murder, cruelty and violation of the basic rights of others.   So there are reasons to be hopeful when we look at the broader picture.  I am reminded that the 18-24 year olds in this country voted overwhelmingly Democratic in the November election despite the loss of Bernie Sanders as a candidate.  So despite current unprecedented levels of bile rising in the average American's gut there is still plenty to look forward to.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/09/books/review/the-better-angels-of-our-nature-by-steven-pinker-book-review.html

Tonight on Selected Shorts Cynthia Nixon hosted a replay of the 150th celebration of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland.   Various passages were read and I believe the one between Alice and Humpty Dumpty seems quite apt for the absurdity and unbelievable dialogue we hear coming out of Washington these days.

Humpty Dumpty was sitting with his legs crossed, like a Turk, on the top of a high wall — such a narrow one that Alice quite wondered how he could keep his balance — and, as his eyes were steadily fixed in the opposite direction, and he didn’t take the least notice of her, she thought he must be a stuffed figure after all.

‘And how exactly like an egg he is!’ she said aloud, standing with her hands ready to catch him, for she was every moment expecting him to fall.

‘It’s very provoking,’ Humpty Dumpty said after a long silence, looking away from Alice as he spoke, ‘to be called an egg — very!’

‘I said you looked like an egg, Sir,’ Alice gently explained. ‘And some eggs are very pretty, you know’ she added, hoping to turn her remark into a sort of a compliment.

‘Some people,’ said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as usual, ‘have no more sense than a baby!’

Alice didn’t know what to say to this: it wasn’t at all like conversation, she thought, as he never said anything to her; in fact, his last remark was evidently addressed to a tree — so she stood and softly repeated to herself:—

‘Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the King’s horses and all the King’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.’

‘That last line is much too long for the poetry,’ she added, almost out loud, forgetting that Humpty Dumpty would hear her.

‘Don’t stand there chattering to yourself like that,’ Humpty Dumpty said, looking at her for the first time, ‘but tell me your name and your business.’

‘My name is Alice, but —’

‘It’s a stupid enough name!’ Humpty Dumpty interrupted impatiently. ‘What does it mean?’

‘must a name mean something?’ Alice asked doubtfully.

‘Of course it must,’ Humpty Dumpty said with a short laugh: ‘my name means the shape I am — and a good handsome shape it is, too. With a name like yours, you might be any shape, almost.’

‘Why do you sit out here all alone?’ said Alice, not wishing to begin an argument.

‘Why, because there’s nobody with me!’ cried Humpty Dumpty. ‘Did you think I didn’t know the answer to that? Ask another.’

‘Don’t you think you’d be safer down on the ground?’ Alice went on, not with any idea of making another riddle, but simply in her good-natured anxiety for the queer creature. ‘That wall is so very narrow!’

‘What tremendously easy riddles you ask!’ Humpty Dumpty growled out. ‘Of course I don’t think so! Why, if ever I did fall off — which there’s no chance of — but If I did —’ Here he pursed his lips and looked so solemn and grand that Alice could hardly help laughing. ‘If I did fall,’ he went on, ‘the King has promised me — with his very own mouth — to — to —’

‘To send all his horses and all his men,’ Alice interrupted, rather unwisely.

‘Now I declare that’s too bad!’ Humpty Dumpty cried, breaking into a sudden passion. ‘You’ve been listening at doors — and behind trees — and down chimneys — or you couldn’t have known it!’

‘I haven’t, indeed!’ Alice said very gently. ‘It’s in a book.’

‘Ah, well! They may write such things in a book,’ Humpty Dumpty said in a calmer tone. ‘That’s what you call a History of England, that is. Now, take a good look at me! I’m one that has spoken to a King, I am: mayhap you’ll never see such another: and to show you I’m not proud, you may shake hands with me!’ And he grinned almost from ear to ear, as he leant forwards (and as nearly as possible fell of the wall in doing so) and offered Alice his hand. She watched him a little anxiously as she took it. ‘If he smiled much more, the ends of his mouth might meet behind,’ she thought: ‘and then I don’t know what would happen to his head! I’m afraid it would come off!’