Hear me out before you judge.

The sonic booms being reported are from aliens trying to send a vaccine to cure the current Dear Leader Infatuation Syndrome in the United States and hitting the Stupidity Shield created snd patented by the Administration to keep the followers from becoming self-aware.

Since it takes a long time to travel through space, it was probably an attempt to prevent the current disaster that is our government. The aliens misjudged the thickness of the American Stupidity Shield and the speed and power needed for an effective penetration to disburse the vaccine.

Nice try, Aliens. You underestimated the thickness of American Ignorance. You’d never catch enough of them for individual vaccination since they’re incredibly anti-vax.

Yep. I decided that with the petty thefts going on at the shop, I would monitor my studio. It’s not an expensive camera, but sufficient for my needs. It watches the entry and I can access it from my iPad. It works well enough for my purposes and notifies me when someone walks past my studio.

I was just reading an old Buzzfeed article asking how many years old you are without giving your age or birthdate. The answers were mostly from “youngsters”— the ones who grew up with remotes and color televisions. The oldest was “I’m riding in the back of the station wagon-years old” I can beat that. I’m “crouch under your desk and cover your head with your hands”-years old, also known as “duck-and-cover” air raid drills

Early Atomic Age— prepare for falling atom bombs AKA early Cold War Era. Eisenhower was President and Russia was Enemy Number One. We could be attacked at any time by the godless communists. Air raid sirens went off once a month. If you couldn’t get to shelter, you did the “duck-and-cover.” Yep. That’d save you from a real bomb.

Maybe with the current state of the country, we should start those drills again. Not that they’d do much good. Just ask the folks from Hiroshima and Nagasaki how well they did. The weapons we have now would literally blast us back to the stone age, not metaphorically, literally. There’s nowhere to hide. Maybe Greenland or maybe Antarctica.

With the luck of most of us, a nuke would strike Yellowstone and send us all not back to the Stone Age, but back to the Primordial swamp. Millions of years from now, the future inhabitants of Earth will be drilling for hydrocarbons in the areas formerly known as Chicago, Minneapolis, New York.

Geologists will speculate on the enormous pools of fatty hydrocarbons that were formerly Americans. Archeologists will be confused by the incredible amounts of crumbling plastic artifacts. Anthropologists and Paleontologists will be using carbonized and crushed shards of bones to assemble what earlier life looked like and will come up with creatures assembled from the fragments of humans and their pets.

They’ll mine the great rust beds that were girders of skyscrapers and wonder about the fragments of tarry ribbons winding about under the dirt. They’ll wonder why there are uncountable seams of copper that extend for thousands of miles but are scarcely thicker than a twig. And they’ll find the Twinkies of a bygone era- still in the plastic wrap, still with the creamy filling, and the soft yellow sponge cake.

What fun.

It looks almost new. The yellow paint from our road trip to my oldest granddaughter’s wedding was scrubbed off and the dent pulled out. That was the souvenir dent and scrape from our stop in Scranton to see the museum of the show “The Office.”

I finished both of my Lego succulent sets. They’ll last longer than most of my plants although I do have a plant that is over 30 years. I have no idea what it was except practically unkillable. It’s moved cross-country twice, moved from three rentals and two cities in the early part of this century and has been in this house for 19 years. It now seems to be in its last year. I have two others that were cuttings from this plant so it will still live on.

I’m almost finished putting my craft room back together. I brought the table I had in my studio back so I could set up my work area. I’m still sorting things back into their proper places. I’ll start bring things back from my studio for the paper crafting that I do and will keep the studio as a place to paint. At least for now, I’ll keep it. It may turn out that I may not have enough income to continue if the mess that we call a government keeps proceeding as it is.

Some of our more maga (I will not capitalize it) state representatives want to make criticism of Israel a hate crime. I’m already sent my “no way” to the Governor to reject this as a violation of the First Amendment protecting free speech.

My opinion is that Israel’s government as well as our government are not right to attack Iran or any other country that disagrees with our actions. Our Senators and Representatives needs to get their collective heads out of Tangerine Twittler’s ass and do their jobs.

This country was founded on a dream that all men could be free to live, worship, and find a way to start and make a better life. Later this freedom was extended to women, blacks, Native Americans, and immigrants fleeing oppression and poverty.

The dream has not yet been realized. The former slaves still endure harsh conditions, fueled by resentment that they were no longer slaves under control. Native Americans, confined to Reservations, with less opportunities of education, employment, and opportunity have a higher mortality and shorter lifespan of even poor Blacks and immigrants.

The quality of education has declined as politicians, less educated community members, and religious extremists have dumbed down, eliminated, or sanitized courses that would teach students the reality of our history, the responsibilities of citizenship, the general history of the rest of the world, and critical thinking.

Classrooms have become one-size education fits no one. The smarter students are dragged down by teachers having to spend more time with their less enthusiastic co-students. There is less incentive to do well because no one will acknowledge the work and effort put in.

As students in the “olden days,” most of us got the same basic level of education from first to ninth grades, depending on what part of the country we lived in. Students in poorer areas and some larger cities with larger poor populations did not always have the same opportunities for schooling.

Most students moved up grades. Some stayed behind for another year until they “got it.” A few were just passed along. Some students were able to choose classes that would lead to a career path.

Many students started to learn “life skills” — typing, drafting, home economics — in addition to higher maths, English composition, basic science skills, civics, history, and even a foreign language.

High School was where we separated into those who would most likely attend a college or university. The courses were harder — chemistry and biology, calculus and trigonometry, written language skills and research papers.

The second level of courses were for those students who would most likely become office workers — typing classes ( which were open to the College Prep students as well), bookkeeping, stenography, and business communications and business math.

The next level was general education. These were the students who had no interest in college or business, or had no means of getting into a place of higher education. They became auto mechanics, and repair persons, builders, and the folks who became the trash collectors.

We college prep folks and business students were taught to look down on these lesser beings — people who worked with their hands. We didn’t understand that these were the people who would ultimately live better lives as the people who kept our lights on, fixed the machinery that made and still make, our lives easy.

These were the folks who earned good money in the factories that made everything we used, grew and processed the food we ate, entered the military as a way to make a life. The funny thing about those folks — they were brainwashed into believing that they were not worthy unless their children went to college or business school to become better.

Which brings us to now— where we rely on immigrants to make and repair the equipment we use, to harvest our crops, to clean up our messes, to do the work that our families did to give us the lives we had.

And we complain about immigrants “taking our jobs!” The very jobs we were told by our parents and leaders that we were too good to do. And those migrants are sending their children to college to become like us— too proud to do the types of jobs our parents and grandparents did because it’s hard work.

It’s okay if you didn’t finish reading this. I lost track of where I was going anyway.