I was feeling self destructive last night, so I watched portions of the Republican convention. I was left with the impression that if Americans were allowed to travel to Europe that Nuremberg would have been the better venue for this event.
Then I went to the computer and googled anti-mask Karens losing their shit in public places. After the second video I had to turn the sound off. I had to mute the Karens because the spectacle was even more depressing as they screeched their stupidity while being dragged out of Trader Joe’s s. I was left with the impression that maybe there really aren’t enough handguns in America.
Now it’s the morning of the next day, and I’m mad at my wife. I’m mad because she won’t agree to move to the bush, shutting down the internet and buying more guns. She claims that we don’t live in America. She claims that civilization has benefits that balance a world where Don Jr. is a keynote speaker on the fucking future of democracy as we know it.
She refuses to watch the convention or the Karen video’s though. Also she’s unhappy that I compared her refusal to watch, to German civilians who lived next to concentration camps and claimed to know nothing of their existence.
So, in an attempt to broker some peace I offered to create a walking trail for her in our new sanctuary among the pines. She needs this path because she walks ten kilometres a day, and I acknowledge that the walk is necessary for her mental and physical well being.
My olive branch was rebuffed. Too many bugs apparently.
Also, bears.
So. I modified our proposed living arrangement with a road nearby. A rarely traveled road, but still, a road. I told her that she could look for blueberries as she walked and maybe shoot a partridge if the season was right for eating either life form.
Again I was rebuffed. The walk needs to be continuous, so no stopping for berries. Also, she doesn’t do guns under any circumstance and so dispatching a tasty bird isn’t on her agenda. I suggested that maybe she could feed the birds, and I’d come along later and dispatch them. I’d need an ATV though because I’m not fucking walking ten kilometres.
Then the discussion veered off to her wondering if the whole thing was a ruse I’d planned just to get an ATV. I assured her that wasn’t the case, but I did say that it was pretty much a given that living on a dirt road in the bush required some means of transport other than a truck.
Anyway, once we got back to the partridge part of things she still refused to cooperate. She didn’t want to be responsible for making the birds trust people only to see them whacked with a blast of seven shot. Also, bears will eat anything, including birdseed and the occasionally petite female, dumb enough to walk in the bush.
So, I offered to ride along behind her on my new quad and make certain that the bears left her alone. But, that would mean more guns, and guns are loud and scare the shit out of her. Also, a dead bear is icky and you can’t shoot bugs.
So, I suggested that maybe our new home could be in the Canadian prairies. I grew up there and it’s flat as hell so you can see the bears a kilometre or two away.
Nope, she doesn’t want to live in isolation, and even the flatland of Saskatchewan has a shit ton of bugs.
Those goddamn bugs are a smoke screen. The real issue is isolation anxiety. People and civilization appeal to her regardless of any downside I point out, and of course there are significantly less mosquito’s when you prefer asphalt to aspens.
I think I might have to alter my strategy. I think I need to become a raging anti-karen. I think I need to start loudly and publicly challenging every maskless asshole I see. I think I might need to verbally attack the next person who claims that the virus is a hoax, or that Donald fucking trump has an idea or two that are sane. I think I need to make it my personal mission to challenge every stupid utterance I hear, and see if my wife becomes uncomfortable enough that the cabin in the woods starts to look like a good idea.
It’s a risky strategy though. She might decide that the house in town is fine and I’m the problem.