Dug on dad's 15th death day. We go up to meet brother Flower Bob in the Nature Sanctuary and sing a song sung blue.

 Fuck the oligarchs. Cats for peace.

I'm embarrassed about Chomsky. I was blind, but now I see the real Noam Chomsky. The cold, hard, ugly truth.

"The cool observers – meaning us smart guys – it’s our task to impose necessary illusions and emotionally potent oversimplifications to keep these poor simpletons on course.

Sad, sad Noam Chomsky, he didn't quite escape to the afterlife with his illusion intact.

 relationship continues after death and we carry on with the dead. the dead are still evolving. the dead could be our exoplanets, revolving. the dead could be exerting the gravitational pull of our inner revolution, bringing it out into the changing world. i have my inner dad, and he has his evolution, continuing in my evolving consciousness, in me. i used to try to separate myself from him, but that was neither possible or necessary. the only thing necessary is to evolve, and be who you really are.

 i know what dad would say about aoc. what an idiot, a phony, such a bad liar, she can't even speak! what would an artificial intelligence dad say? no, that's abzurd. come on. 

 dad's death day. i wonder what dad would say about this country now? i like to imagine his pithy commentary, but i can't hear it. i'm sure he'd be disgusted. would he still have his giant flag flapping madly on the porch? if he lived perhaps we would have converged in anti-impiriality. 

 we watched hypernormalization last night. it was pretty interesting, though for a film that talks about how the pols lie and lie and lie it was pretty doggone propagandistic itself. no mention of the epstein class, or the zionist genocide. well, it was bbc.