God, armchair revolutionaries make me tired.
1776 will not commence again, because that would require that you give up your job that you hate and your family you don’t like very much and your fucking recliner and your Bugles filled with spray cheese and actually DO SOMETHING, and if you were capable of improving the world in any miniscule way you wouldn’t be such an angry fucking insect in the first place, and you wouldn’t need to use the prospective deaths of others to yob off in front of the world on national television to make yourself sound important. Fuck you.
God, can all these people just get back to me when there’s a meeting I actually need to be at? At least ten times a day somebody within earshot of me wishes armed revolution would commence over something or other, and is this me getting old, that I’ve been on this planet long enough to remember EVERY TIME that we are always promising that THIS is gonna be the big one and it never fucking is? How 9/11 was going to make us better people (SO FUCKING GROSS) and how we were gonna be serious again, how the wars were going to teach us not to be so susceptible to bullshit, how Obama’s election would end racism forever, how this time, today, this morning, it was all gonna change?
(And it never goddamn does, and I don’t even care that it doesn’t. I care that we keep saying stupid shit. I care that we keep making promises we can’t keep, instead of getting up every day and picking up the laundry off the bathroom floor for once. The big promises DAMAGE us, they ruin us with their hopelessness, because they make us think ALL promises are hopeless, and ALL change is impossible, and all progress is a forlorn dream with no chance of coming true.)
So now the gun nuts are going to rise, huh? No they’re not. Not en masse. Not in a wave that will remake this nation. Not to throw off the yoke of oppression or to protect “freedom” (Hey fuckos, you want to shoot shit for a living and defend freedom? The recruiting office is right there.) or even to keep the rusty hunting rifle Granny kept for shootin’ varmints. A few people will cause untold amounts of carnage because bullshit merchants like this guy keep yelling, and the majority of people will go on about their lives.
Grumbling, sure. Resentful, sure. Just like every other Tuesday in the entire universe ever, because we have made these kinds of declarations before, and I’ll believe in the next leader of the Last Free Republic when he puts down the remote and does something, anything other than talk about what he’s gonna do someday, this time, for real.
A.