I'm covering myself in Vaseline for the dry air in NYC and so that I'll slip from the cops gloved grasp.

Horny yesterday. My arousal cycles with appropriations bills.

I hate being scared as a white man. It used to only happen on planes and first dates.

Dreamt about Target and ICE. Now I understand, Target's plan all along was just brand recognition.

I'm gonna do ICE watch when the Gestapo come to Brooklyn, but I'm thinking of floating the idea of drones. I'm not prepared to stop working from home.

I really want to join Philly BLM as a nonviolent white protestor with a PhD. I'm drafting a proposal where I'm armed with pepper spray instead of an M16.

Dems lecturing me all this is "hurting our reputation with the Europeans" as if main problem with police state is dirty looks at the cafe.

From activist work, I've met only two kinds of American leftists: those who treat their anxiety with Sertraline and those who treat it with sex. One group reads DFW and the other Pynchon.

Celine's description of his mom is white Republican parents over 60 right now: "an implacable smile towards our elimination, we the meat destined for sacrifice."

Laid off from my DOD subcontractor job. Now I'm writing porn. In a few months Lockheed Martin will reach out and if I can write weaponized porn they can sell to Mossad. Hegseth with hands folded: "IRGC can't shoot protestors if they're shooting wads."

Friends have told me "Trump won't *dare* to send a big ICE deployment to NYC." Hilarious. These are the same people who think "well I'm glad I have a passport" when Kristi Noem announces mandatory ID.

I speak four languages, am queer, have a PhD, and have the high cheekbones and body of Dracula. The only reason I haven't left for Europe is that they won't let me list my assault rifle as "domestic partner."

"There's some good left in this world Mr. Frodo". What I like about Frodo's activism is that he gets to remain a landed aristocrat with a butler while at protests.

Politics is sports for smart people

Getting back into activism and god it feels like that first run after two months off. I hate meetings.

Minneapolis nightmare has me furiously Googling demographic data about US electoral politics from my New York City apartment. I really know nothing about this country.