For every nine minutes I spend mad about it all, I spend nine minutes on keeping house, I waste nine minutes on distracting myself with coping mechanisms, and I invest nine minutes in figuring out what to do. Almost none of that time is spent in contemplating upon political action or activism, because ultimately I have no faith in muh fellow Americans, enough of them, to make that worthwhile. Should the right opportunity present itself and change that equation, then sure, I’ll consider it then.

What to do thus consists of studying what kind of horse to buy and what to put in its saddlebags, and dreaming of where I’ll point my mount, and why. In time I think this platform may be much more down in the weeds and concerned with that kind of detail. But even if that happens, I want to keep it grounded in these larger concerns, this broader scope, an attentiveness to the origins of humanity, its failed experiment in civilization, and its grand fate as a species.

During these latter days I am positioning myself to have the generalities all refined and understood, before I proceed to detailing a very personalized set of solutions.

Several times I’ve drafted a post called The Green Day, in which I was to have cleanly made the pivot.

Maybe the pivot was never supposed to be clean.