Last night there was crazy ass wind, horizontal wind blasting from the west coming through the closed windows. The midway has ephemeral lagoons and the weird corral is a retaining pond. The streets under the train tracks are flooded, but the land grab Obamachron itself is unflooded. I suppose the styrofoam landscape allows the water to pool underneath, or something. Still, I picture a future where the futile castle tower is surrounded by water and that big door-like opening on the side is revealed to be a drawbridge. The wind is still too crazy ass for the concrete puzzle pieces of his grandiose speech to be uplifted to his conning tower. The words are cryptic, lying in pieces on the disturbed earth.