I was staying with some family this weekend. Overall things were going well but I started to feel overwhelmed and left early to drive 3 hours back home. There wasn't anything good on the radio so I put on a Throbbing Gristle album (never a good sign).
A large part of why I left was because I simply cannot stand the person my father has become. I terrifies me that somebody so intelligent and that I've always felt so much respect for can now so rabidly subscribe to every single thing Glenn Beck says. My father is convinced that the left-wing islamofascists are about to rise up and drench the streets in blood, and he says (essentially) that he is worried because he thinks I'm too naive to stay out of it.
In one of my university classes we spent a few hours discussing the Spanish Civil War last week. My professor mentioned the painting Autumnal Cannibalism by Salvador Dali. I've had that image burned into my brain ever since. I can't stop thinking about that war, the so-called Red and White Terrors.
I decided to get in contact with one of the local Socialist (gasp/shock/horror) groups. I gave my phone number to a very attractive female (too old to be a 'girl', still feels uncomfortable calling someone my age a 'woman') and mentally I was thinking something along the lines of "is this how it begins?"
In retrospect I find it disturbing how that question had nothing to do with the immediate social interaction. There was nothing in my mind along the lines of, "Yay! The Cute Girl wants to talk to me again!" No matter how post-feminist (left-wing feminazi islamofascist?) I try to be that's usually how I would have responded to the situation, even though she was only getting my number so we could coordinate schedules to set up meetings when people didn't have classes.
Instead I just had that painting stuck in my head alongside my father's lunatic ravings, which he shares with all the other Fox News Faithful. Listening to Throbbing Gristle I remember that there are few things more horrifying than my own species.
I'm terrified of the future. Sometimes I just hope that I'm insane.
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