just kept my more or less continuous appointment with the urologist. for the past two years she has never missed an opportunity to rail against trump. but today i find her strangely subdued, almost content. she has a sad little sideways smile.
i’ll be alright, she says, this isn’t going to change my life. my taxes will probably go down.
sure, i wanted to say; you’re white, you got health insurance and a pile of money. you’ve worked hard.
i’m sure you’ll be alright, i said.
i once acquired a definition of ‘fey.’ came from the vikings. now these guys loved to fight; fight fight fight allatime.
the word ‘berserk’ is also from those same loveable vikings. it’s the state of mind you get in when you’ve committed so much mayhem (prob also a viking word) you become insane with bloodlust and do the kind of terrible things that probably make you a legend for at least a couple generations in that fucked up, pre-truth society.
fey is kinda the opposite of berserk, a strange passivity that may overtake a man or an entire army without warning in the midst of battle. after a certain amount of hideous bloodshed, a fey may suddenly descend upon the men, rendering them helpless against their enemies.
of all the terrible fears in combat, the vikings believed the worst was to look around and see a fey look on the faces of your fellow soldiers, for then you were truly doomed.
doomed, my fey urologist. doomed, the new york times has gone fey.
me personally i myself am tending more in the berserk direction, but i can feel the fey coming on.
can’t stop watching the news, the gathering atrocities, feeding the delicious rush of fight or flight. don’t tell me to stop looking, i’m having the time of my life.
it was all in network years ago, i tell myself – pallid whispers in the night.
well, alrighty then: but i am going to look the goddamn thing in the face at least. and call it what it is.