Arid zone

After a few days in Arizona (beautiful sunlight, sharply-outlined mountains, constant reminiscences of Wile E. Coyote), I recall how many times the newspaper and conversations overheard around me attested to a general meanness. People talked about an “invasion” on the southern border as a matter of course. As if folks like them had not once been invaders! And grumbled about Californians “invading” as well, with their strange clothing and mores. The newspaper brought news of the state legislature attempting to get legal cover for punishing cities or districts that passed any local ordinances that ran counter to state policies. Or rather, not “any,” but specific ordinances seeking to protect migrants, undocumented people, minimum-wage-earners, and otherwise vulnerable humans. The state seeks to mandate meanness. A kind of absurd climax was provided by a proposed act that would disqualify most kinds of “emotional support animal” on public transport. “Owning the libs” at its finest. I would advocate separating people from their emotional support firearms in every context but the national defense, how about that? It wouldn’t even be mean.

One thought on “Arid zone

  1. When I went to vist my brother’s business in Scottsdale, I was amazed at the profusion of gun shops, the second-rate suburban feel of the city, and the three-digit temperatures on the news. This was a few years ago, in pre-Trump days, so there wasn’t talk of invasions. The good news for these beleaguered defenders of whiteness is that in a few years, the temperatures will go up to 140° and the state of Arizona will have to be evacuated. All the territory they so zealously defended will be abandoned, and they will be “invaders” elsewhere; they will learn how it feels to be on the receiving end.

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