I really have very little in common with people my age.

I mean, I never have much in common with anyone at all but people my age — fuck, I don’t give a crap about your golf score, your mortgage, your kids or their antics, your investment “advice,” how the 70s or the 80s was the best period for music EVAR or any of that other crap. If I have to listen to one more rambling digression about some 1970s TV show I think I will barf at light speed. FUCK M*A*S*H. DAMN.

Guess that’s why I tend to mingle most with the interns at work. We listen to the same music, have a lot more essential freedom in our lives, and we are not completely set in our ways. The interns listen and consider. People my age are so ossified they might as well all be named “Femur.”

And as for talking to the interns, it’s really funny sometimes when I do mention something older like The Breakfast Club and it’s a complete mystery to them.

Every place a person stands is its own country, with an inhabitant of but one. There is no other way to be in this world. Your eyes saccade over the contours of the known yet this process is not reversible: a grace and a curse. There can be no ascertaining the arrangement of any other person’s map of their own private nation, no method of discovering the symbol on the legend that marks your name, your being, in that strange other’s mental topography. Is it a dagger for danger? A bridge to always cross to reach a welcoming shore? A gun; a fire; an uncanny artifact ever unknown even to the cartographer.

How much is veiled even to that author of the map is what is more unnerving still — that some Jungian ur-memory resident since the Devonian could overrun it all at any moment, redraw the boundaries, a revanchist lusus naturae marauding across the bunched mountains and huddled hills which in this case actually is the map and the territory, and with no recourse but to watch the unfolding invasion.

(This is an example of my “real” writing. Took me as long to compose as 15-20 of my blog posts.)

If Bernie Sanders manages to kick into gear a real drive for single payer, he’ll have helped save more lives and bettered the lot of more people than nearly anyone who ever lived — all without drone-bombing anyone to freedom.

Bernie was always better as not-president. Admittedly, though, nearly anything is better than Trump.