Two Hours in the Laundromat, Washing my Toga

Ever since the Supreme Court ruled that being born is a natural disaster and that the sanctity of childbirth is protected by a citizen’s 5th Amendment rights, whether they be male or female, the Leftist’s in this country have been up in arms, rightfully so it seems, clamoring for a Zero Emissions curse on the Republican Party.

The separation between the meaning of the words, apocalypse and holocaust is drawing ever closer these days, full of the nuance and legal shape-shifting favored by the Originalists on the court, several of whom misled, if not outright lied to the august Senators at their Confirmation hearing(s) as to their intentions regarding the established-law: the sanctity of a woman’s right to choose to give birth or not to give birth. That the Confirmed Justices lied to the Senators is one thing; to have been chosen in the first place by a Mafia Don masquerading as President is another.

I’ve taken a book with me to the laundromat. Rather than watching my toga go through the spin cycle in a seemingly endless circle, reading a good book makes me feel like I’m doing some good in the world, and not just wasting my time. I can be confident that a good book has already taken a solemn oath to be truthful and to uphold the sacred laws of literature to the best of its ability.

“I guess at reality,” wrote Clarice Lispector, Brazilian, in her short story, “Before the Rio-Niteroi Bridge.”

Sunset Blues Laundry, Irving St. San Francisco, August 25, 2022: a good place to read.