This is about the time, every other year, when the various campaigns to get cripples registered to vote start cranking it up big time.
It’s time for me to clear away old resentments. I have to make room for the new ones.
The alternative to handing all my cash over to the government is to blow every last damn red cent.
The more crippled you are, the more impossible it is to travel light.
I have to say that I have an issue with that popular saying attributed to Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemöller that begins with, “First they came for the Socialists and I did not speak out because I was not a Socialist.” I don’t have a problem with the sentiment expressed. It’s just that there’s a hole in it.
I imagine the circus boss might have been tempted to replace the striking crippled freaks with robots, had such things existed back then.
It’s big fun irritating smug people in power, especially when you beat them. But it’s stressful, too.
Looking backward for hope and strength just makes me break out in hives …
Polite society is much more comfortable publicly discussing how to help cripples die.
They call it the Seduction wheelchair. Apparently if a guy drives it down the street, women throw themselves at him. They can’t resist.