Sitting On Top of The Whirlwind

The week before Christmas, day before Solstice. Yes, I survived the Tornado. President Musk will be here soon. Edgar Allen Poe’s “Masque of the Red Death” has become daily reading.

And yet, “She consisted!”

I’ve given up persisting.

I yam what I yam, I have a Water Plan— and a lot of canned Spam.

Our minds are drawn this end of year to poetry, to dark humor, to symbols and signs.

The more you can’t say in public what’s going on, the more fragrant the underground aroma.

I’m giving you Cassandra for your stocking this year, all tied in a bow. I hope you find her as comforting as I do. Look at her pretty eyes!

All this and more on today’s penultimate 2024 podcast . . .

---