What an awful week

Sideways

Welcome to Milwaukee, gateway to Kenosha. I used to be a reporter in Kenosha, and it was the kind of place where new and different feature stories were hard to come by, but you could always count on the common council for a shouting match. The aldermen would even yell at me from time to time, in the middle of the meeting, for things I had written, which, among reporters, is a badge of honor.

But I'm glad I'm not there today. Trump, though specifically disinvited, is due to arrive any time, and people will be out in force, throwing things, shouting things, shooting things, and the truth of anything said will be measured, not by factual accuracy, but by the volume at which it is shouted.

I fully expect that Flight for Life and Froedtert will be busy tonight, and that injured and even dying Black protestors will be shackled to their hospital beds, and that white kids who show up with automatic rifles will be thanked by the feckless police, the national guard and the sheriff's department for their service, and sent safely home, where their mothers can feed them and tell them how proud they were for what they did.

All that, and I think it's going to rain.

My bile, unleashed.