Nine

Saw what I had for my draft, and said, “nein.”

While there was something somewhat appropriate about my views on police, dating way back to before 9/11, I don’t feel like sharing it. It was my reaction to seeing a longtime, now ex, girlfriend who was driving around with hair of a very strange color, and had a “Bad Cop. No Donut.” bumper sticker.

So free-write, basically.

Update on the news from the past couple of days. The fucker who strangled the woman who accused him of rape managed to succeed in killing himself.

Bridget Phetasy sometimes talks about messing with people in Nextdoor. Nextdoor is, completely unintentionally, a collection of the worst ideas of many homeowners’ associations wrapped up in a single place.

It remains that way.

You combine age, and the religious certainty of adherence to one of the two parties, and you get a downright awful place.

Whether or not this worm should have been released from jail is less important than the fact that the Commonwealth had a responsibility to protect the victim while the criminal justice process proceeded. It didn’t do that. It doesn’t fucking matter if it happened in a place that’s a single-party colossus, the state, and its agents, didn’t do their job, and a crime victim is dead because of that.

Background right now is this, something I’d missed when I thought they’d gone behind the censorial company’s paywall. Good stuff.