Credentials a function of veracity, there's a deficit of believability about. Chatting up an imbiber on her patio, he was full of complaint about the Donald, for whom he had voted. Said he'd had the same experience with Obama. Disatisfaction soon after their assumption, the power remaining with the elites. Of course he's sipping on his beer as he goes on to describe the President as a buffoon, simultaneously to, in other places, elites in their turn making moves - usually sober.
What's to make of it? It's a ridiculous situation, surely. I say they can run things however they wish. I am fortunate. I am not a slave. No reason to anesthetize myself.
Contemplating going to see Francesca this evening, I'm reminded of my first kiss. In a gazebo of sorts. In a courtyard of an apartment quad. Took me by surprise. Slathered it on, she did. Fourteen and a bit much, really. It was a long walk home and, frankly, I thought it was silly. She called it 'kissy face' and it wasn't satisfactory, to say the least. Who needs that? The more important thing was to stick with the program and get educated proper. Probably had a basketball game first thing in the morning.
Years later, met another woman who told me (upon a minimum of Homer and Edith Hamilton) that the Greeks took the boys away from the women at age 7 or so. The reputed age of reason. Telling. Later yet, no problem melding - for the most part. But the matter of credentials remains; otherwise a crackpot, eh? Or self-ordained whatever. One does what one can and moves along.
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