Friday, June 5, 2020

doughnut CRUMBS with H2Omelon seed sprinkles



VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2020 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2020 KM Fikes


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


Image Credit: mellomelon.co.uk/watermelon-doughnuts



Ambiguity abounds RE: whether or not the protests = a societal reformation.  Been here before.  Too oft.  What is required for substantial structural change would upend America's very idea of itself.  The pipe of privilege is an addiction and no protesting 'intervention' can save an addict until they hit their own bottom.  With the stock market rebounding - the pulse o' the US 'body' politic?  'Bottom', it ain't.  Only at bottom, where privilege is a peril, can the addict own its addiction.  Amy Cooper - dog-less, jobless - is one social-mediated anomaly.  A peek at the possibility of bottom.  But not one minute before a collective bottom - a visceral communal reckoning where privilege is released to convulsing, sweating, heart-palpitating withdrawal, can America show up in the otherwise-abandoned church basement - terrified for the moment when they must introduce themself to the other chain-smoking colonizers formally from some G-Numbered Summit: 


PALE SPRINKLES:
A Scene Sans An Act

U. S.:      "Hi. My name is United S."  

WORLD: "Hi, United S."

U. S.:      "When I was 'using', they called me YOU...S.  So uh...please call me: 'YOU...My 
                name is YOU S.  And I'm complicit/compliant with white supremacy.  I've been 
               'sober' now for uh...ten days and two hours (May 25, Memorial Day, i. e., George 
                Floyd's documented murder.  Not the murder now, but the documentation of it 
                that no longer allows me the rush n' crash of empty-calorie 'allyship' nor the 
                sugar-coated lenses of rose melon-colored glasses tinting my 'white gaze')."

Followed by awkward masked nods, seated in a socially-distanced round.  Behind them, a wobbly-legged card table that would normally host doughnuts dry as stale. With sprinkles pale.


END of Act-less Scene



a clever as compassionate critique 
on the implausibility 
of POSTness


© 2020 KM Fikes 
© 2020 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

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