Some things truly never change. Went to my old haunt the other day--a cafe whose name I won't divulge, but they make a mean omelet. And who was there--STILL--but the Breakfast Bloviator! And because he has a loud voice, I heard every word of his widdle speechie about filthy illegals and open borders and THAR TAKIN ARE JOBZ etc. etc. etc.--in other words, the same old tiresome shit. And I wonder--is hatred the most durable emotion in the human heart? The Bloviator must be in his eighties by now--and here he still is, spewing his venom, presumably every day, like he always was before.
It makes me despair. Anybody have some kind of optimistic counterpoint?
