Sunday, March 18, 2018

Tupperware or Rubbermaid. I Don't Have Room to Care.

I bought a set of Tupperware from Amazon. It wasn't Tuppeware - it was Rubbermaid. But I don't  know the word for the things that I call Tupperware but aren't tupperware and I can't be bothered to find out or even whether it should be capitalized when I'm using it as a generic descriptive noun. Anyway, it looks like this:


I opened my fridge tonight to put the leftover pasta away and there it sat in its clear plastic container with a red top, right next to 6 or 7 other fridge things in the same, albeit differently sized plastic containers with red tops. It was beautiful. The order and sensibleness of all my fridge things stored in tidy, dishwasher-safe containers that all look the same, albeit differently sized? I enjoyed a palpable, authentic frisson of pleasure.

(This is not my beautiful wife.)

I almost never write in this blog anymore. I haven't played my piano in months. I had this plan to finally turn my novel into a proper eBook and even realized how it should begin (that only took 10 years or so). But I haven't done any of it.

Instead, I spend all my free brainspace stuffing it full of information about L'il Duce and the chaos he's engendered.

I don't want to know who Andrew McCabe is. Sarah Huckabee Sanders, that liar and sociopath, doesn't deserve the space in my brain she takes up. Fuck Jefferson Davis Sessions, that racist old ferret.

God, I loved it when I only sort of knew who Eric Holder was.

I'm so angry at the people who live in that Fox News bubble (or, worse, just liked the cut of Trump's jib or something) who gleefully slouched us into this Bethlehem.

I had a Republican friend who really hates Trump tell me recently that she likes Paul Ryan. How could ANYONE LIKE PAUL RYAN!?!?!  Paul Ryan cares about nothing nothing nothing but increasing the wealth for the thinnest sliver of already wealthy Americans. He has no other policy position. No other guiding moral principle. He is a nice p90X body casing an absolutely depleted morality. There is nothing of substance about him at all.

But he says he hates abortion. He doesn't hate abortion. He doesn't care about abortion. But he knows he'll get votes from people who do and so people vote for him. The same people who, sorrynotsorry, can't be bothered to wrap their heads around the manifestly obvious truth that the only real way to reduce abortions is to increase access to birth control and sex ed.

See also the gun people, who just don't care that our children are being massacred at the altar of their gunny cult. They like it when Mitch McConnell fellates an AR-57 so much they don't care that he's the guy who keeps you desperately tethered to a corporate health care policy that couldn't give a shit about keeping you alive. Their concern begins and ends and how grossly they can profit off poor and middle-class people. The same people who keep fucking voting for them!

I don't want to know that Rex Tillerson laid waste to the state department that Hillary Clinton and John Kerry (but especially Hillary) spent eight years laying solid diplomatic ground on. HRC jetted around the world and worked her ass off to keep us safe. But to the folks who love Trump, she's Cruella DeVil meets Lady MacBeth meets an Ugly Stepsister, or some other bullshit sexist trope that the stupidest among us use to organize their lives.

I'm just so mad all the time. Aren't you? How does anyone have time to do anything but refresh Twitter and be mad (and be terrified and then mad again... mad is easier than terrified).

I soothe myself with bourbon, escapist tv and the calming, consoling, palliative joy of matching tupperware. Or Rubbermaid. I don't give a shit.

What has the American monster tweeted tonight?

By the way, don't give me any advice. Please. I am not soliciting advice. I'm venting. I'll give you advice instead: buy matching tupperware and fake orderliness in a terrifyingly chaotic world.