My last post met with such resounding success, it stirred neo-primal urges, and other paradoxical phenomena in me, I had to write again. Thrilling it is.
Of utmost importance is survival in such a primal environment as ours. The differences I see between our day and Grok's, are golf shirts and lasers.
It's kinda like a line in the George Strait movie, "Pure Country". An old man (probably my age) suspected Strait's character of fraud, so he verbalized an illustration. "You know that little white speck on top of chicken shit? Well, that's shit too." Elemental perception.
There's not much about this election for POTUS that excites me. I mean in the positive. It actually scares the shit out of me. And the fact I am powerless to do anything about it scares me more. I'm not one of the 13 individual forces that control this world.
If I was diagnosed by a medical doctor about my condition, I believe the outcome would be described as Electile Dysfunction...neither, and none of the candidates arouses me enough to enjoy the act of voting. But I will vote. Maybe there is a pill for it. I hope to have a 4 hour window this November in which to cast it.