A Military Trans-Formation
Since Trump’s election, some six months ago, I’ve tried desperately to disconnect from the news. These attempts have failed mainly because I'm a man bereft of aspirations and goals, thus I work for Uber. This monotonous debacle of a job inevitably leads me to turn on the interminable FM radio (and A.M. too for that matter), where I am attacked by the daily onslaught of fake news. FAKE NEWS! Get it while its hot! You're supposed to read that like it's 1967 in New York City and your off to get today’s pressing of the New York Times before you hop in a shinny yellow cab. "FAKE NEWS, GET IT WHILE ITS HOT!" Sorry, I got sidetrack thanks to the Art Blakey vinyl spinning on the turntable [ 1 ] . Takes you back to a time you never even knew, yet it feels so warm, familiar, and oddly reassuring. Maybe it's anything to get away from living in the moment? Let’s be clear, I don’t mean the kind of fake news that Trump laments on about. Or do I? Jesus christ, enough ...