“Specious.”

A new thing, looking up words and writing them down in un cahier.* So,

spe•cious spē′shəs►

• adj.Having the ring of truth or plausibility but actually fallacious.
• adj.Deceptively appealing.
• Pleasing to the eye; externally fair or showy; appearing beautiful or charming; sightly; beautiful.

https://duckduckgo.com/?q=specious&ia=definition

Why???? Oh why any of this shit, but here and now, it’s in reference to an article regarding the stupidest senator, Ron Johnson (Rethug, WI), and how he couldn’t be arsed to read the infrastructure bill because “adding to the deficit” (256 billion?), as opposed to that tax reform bill he did for his buddy the former guy that added 2 fucking trillion to the deficit. Also “blahblahblah partisan Covid relief bill” motherfucking anti-vaxx superspreader guy.

A dear friend and I were talking despair and how we just can’t do this shit any more, “do this shit” meaning treating other humans like they’re reasonable people when obviously a big fucking chunk of them are psychos.

And yeah, they probably aren’t psychos, just very afraid of this weird fucking invisible threat and blaming it on Fauci or public health nurses or whatever because it is easier to give an existential threat a human cause because that means it is something that humans can arm-wrestle or something. And fucking hell, I didn’t think being a reasonable human being would mark me out as special or I would have highlighted it on my resume more often.

I email Ron Johnson regularly, ending them all with “resign in disgrace, Russia Ron.” But I suspect (oh, here’s where the “reasonable person” facade slips) that my emails no longer go through because I don’t have to arse around with Captcha** any more. I don’t dare call, well I do dare, just not when child is around and also because evil bad words – you know, like stupid motherfucker – will slip out and I don’t want the FBI showing up at my door. So now, do I accept the fact that my emails mean nothing, are just a sham/placebo/sugar pill, to help me feel like I have control over my existence? Or do I move on to the hard stuff – I mean stationery, good paper, embossed notecards, or do I spend my fancy postcards? I don’t want them to have nice things, but maybe I could sneak past their ideological defenses with pretty pictures of flowers.

*okay explanation I just finished The Secret History by psycho in chief Donna Tartt, and now I’m being all pretentious and shit. Okay, now I have to look up “pretentious.”

**Captcha uses those horrible pictures with no people ever because we are helping train google image recognition? Or some other probable conspiracy theory. Everything is now a conspiracy, except flowers. Well no, they conspire to get bees. So, conspiracy theories are just examples of symbiosis? Oh shit, I’d better go lie down for a bit.