by someone who just wanted a quiet life, a decent sandwich, and a planet that hadn’t completely lost the plot.
So here I am, staring at a blank screen, attempting to string together a story, something, anything— but all I can think about is how worryingly uninspired I feel these days. Not because life has become boring. Oh no. Life is still full of lunacy and people with the IQ of overcooked broccoli making decisions on our behalf. It’s just that the sheer volume of negativity out there could power a small city. People don’t laugh anymore—they just scowl and pick sides. It’s all turned into one massive, soul-sucking episode of a 1980’s soap opera—but without the charm, or the budget.
Everything, and I mean everything, is political now. You can’t fart in public without someone yelling “MAGA” or “woke” like it’s a tribal war cry. It’s not Left or Right anymore—it’s Us vs Them. Red hat, blue checkmark, and nothing in between. But what about us folks in the middle? The ones who just want to get through the day without being accused of cultural treason for having toast with actual butter on it?
Take Superman, for example. Harmless, cape-wearing, truth-and-justice Superman. Now, apparently, his “S” logo stands for MS-13, according to a Fox News host who’s clearly been sniffing printer ink. Why? Because the film’s director had the audacity to say that Superman—wait for it—is an immigrant. Which, by the way, he is. Rocketed from a dying planet and raised in Kansas. Classic immigrant story. And now, somehow, that makes him a gang member? What next? Captain America joins Antifa?
And it gets better. A congresswoman from Georgia—yes, that Georgia—has announced she’s going to introduce legislation that makes it a felony to alter the weather. Let me just say that again. A felony. To. Alter. The. Weather. Is this a law against God? Against clouds? Rain? Thor? Has she never heard of basic science? Cloud seeding isn’t the plot of a Bond film. It’s not weather control—it’s basically begging the sky to pee a little. A trickle. Not a monsoon. And even then, storms don’t check voter registration before flattening your house. Ask the Japanese. Ask the Haitians. Hurricanes, if I must add, don’t give a toss whether you vote red or blue—they just show up, wreck everything, and leave.
Then you’ve got the anti-Semitic clowns across the aisle screaming about Israel and Palestine like it’s an NFL match. The Middle East has been a hot mess since Moses wore sandals. It’s complicated. It’s ancient. And no, Israelis are not Republicans, and Palestinians are not Democrats. It’s not a campus debate. It’s people dying. So maybe, just maybe, a little less shouting and a little more thinking?
And don’t even get me started on bathrooms, statues, vaccines, electric cars, solar panels, and people insisting they’re one thing and demanding we all play along like it’s a massive episode of charades. Somehow, all of it is political. A wind turbine? Political. Choosing almond milk? Political. Sneezing the wrong way? Apparently fascist!
The sheer volume of this nonsense is enough to make you want to live in a shed, grow a beard, and communicate exclusively by whittling sticks. It’s drowning out the good. Drowning out reason, compassion, common decency—and let’s not forget, humor.
What we need—desperately—is a cultural reset. Less outrage, more Bob Ross. Fewer hot takes, more Mr. Rogers. Less of “BREAKING NEWS” and more of, “Let’s just sit quietly and be decent humans for a minute.” And for the love of all things holy, some accountability wouldn’t go amiss either.
Today, in a spark of defiant optimism, I shared what I thought was a lighthearted story on Reddit. A quiet, gentle nudge of humor. A chuckle. A smirk. Something to lift the gloom. And what did I get in return? Abuse. Accusations. Insults sharper than a divorce lawyer’s pen. It was like handing someone a puppy and being told it was a war crime.
How did we get here? When did ideology ever replaced good virtues and basic science?
Now look, I know some or many people won’t agree with me— and that’s absolutely fine. We can disagree. It’s allowed. We can argue and debate, even bicker, and poke holes in each other’s logic. But realize this, we can do it without foaming at the mouth like rabid dogs at a fireworks show. We can have a proper, spirited conversation without turning it into a gladiator match. In short, we can be… Democratic, even Civilized. And wouldn’t that be a novelty?
I am frustrated. Deeply. But I remain optimistic. There’s still a spark left somewhere, probably under a pile of canceled comedians and burnt-out logic. And if we dig just a little deeper, we might find it again.
And here’s the thing—I’ve got a question for the older generations. Has it always been like this? Was there always this much noise? This much hate? Or am I just too young to remember when people knew how to disagree without needing a restraining order?
Because this? This is madness. It’s exhausting. Outright discouraging. Completely disgusting. And to be blunt—it’s undeniably terrifying.
Still, despite the lunacy, the madness and the frightful uncertainty—I haven’t given up hope. Not yet. We can still find our better angels. Preferably ones with a working sense of humor and a basic grasp of meteorology.
Thanks for dropping by my little corner of the world. If the story gave you a chuckle or made you pause and think, a like would be mighty kind. And if you’re feeling adventurous, well, hitting that subscribe button is like pulling up a chair and staying a while—always room for one more.
I subscribe back, by the way. It’s my way of saying, “Welcome to the club—snacks are in the back, good times up front!”
Your comments make me smile, sometimes laugh out loud, and every now and then, they nudge me to dig a little deeper, write a little better. So, stick around—who knows what we’ll stumble upon next!
A Kings 
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