The Dander
Making stacks while the world's on fire
The next dispatch will go up Monday, April 13.
I didn’t write anything for Wednesday. That might be the first no-call no-show I’ve delivered in several years of doing this, which doesn’t make it better, but I spent most of Tuesday actually wondering if my country was going to drop a nuclear bomb on other people, so I’m giving myself a pass and I hope you will too.
At this point, I don’t even know what to say. I’m sure there are people for whom this, and only this, was a bridge too far, and who are going to quietly slink off the Trump Train and just hope nobody bothers them too much for their belligerence in past comments sections. Others are clearly just as focused on sanewashing this regime as they’ve been since 2016, insisting it’s not half their country and the entire rest of the world who are right, but their righteous cult of unlimited excuses and destroyed norms.
I might have stumbled upon a new way of doing things in my attempt to be productive instead of staring into the yawning abyss and thinking up nightmare scenarios. This morning, Wednesday, instead of banging out a last minute column of overblown prose about the fragility of civilization, I cleared the dining room table and made some serious stacks. I pulled 100 CDs from the last big hoard, gathered forty LPs from a couple random shelves that have needed priced for ages, and even scooped up thirty books from my oldest inventory.
