There’s currently a good chance of insanity.  Not in the wonderful sense of losing track of reality.  Delusions that chemically or otherwise we might wake up from.  This is more the crushing nature of all anxiety disorders, where the world is warped, jagged and cutting in every instant.  The backfire of a car conjures dreadful notions of bombs going off, and there’s a real probability it is a bomb.  There’s nowhere safe anymore.  Just ask Breonna Taylor. 
 
Sometimes it seems endurable, but that tempting mistake is the sugar lure drawing towards a false security.  By the time anyone realizes we’re behind the line, well past the point of no return, it’s down the rabbit hole into whatever infernal hell awaits.  And don’t be fooled.  There’s no sense of what tomorrow will bring. 
 
We used to have things like truth, facts, and other similar metrics to at least imply what’s coming.  Now, all bets are off.  It’s not improbable some hideous mutation, conjured by the Fukushima catastrophe a few years ago, will emerge from the ocean.  Flying sharks holding their breath like whales as they soar between bites; jellyfish the size of hot air balloons mindlessly drifting across continents, killing at a touch. 
 
Why even think of such things?  Especially since Instagram is still pumping out cute overloads.  Because they feel, oddly enough, less horrifying than the grim meat hooks gouging us now. 
 
There’s an old rust on what’s grabbed us lately.  The fatigue of dealing with it isn’t from strain.  We’ve tragically evolved to always have a certain amount of strength left over for this constant weight.  We expect to have it around, and it’s that awareness that’s so draining – knowing the way the world evolved to accommodate the wicked rather than the good. 
 
The protests won’t change anything no matter how much the country burns.  One half of the nation is already doing every mental gymnastic possible to blame the oppressed for all the ways they’re brutalized, while the other half keeps delusionally thinking this is the line.  This bloody smear on the concrete will finally wake up the opposition to the horrors of racism, looming fascism, etc.  Never mind they’ve been almost merrily blind to it for decades.
 
A whole generation watched people fight for the most banal rights like sitting in some southern greasy spoon.  They watched them get attacked by vicious dogs, blasted with firehoses, and beaten mercilessly with clubs.  Their reaction to such savagery summed up by the election of a papaya whip dimwit who’s only real promise was to make it okay to be a bigot in public once more.  Use the code words, sing along with the dog whistles, but it’s okay now.  Tiki in hand, march out of the darkness, and without a shred of irony, torch rally to light the way to a new dark age. 
 
Everything about that apricot asshole is a means to spite everyone who wanted the world a little kinder, a little more welcoming.  From his gleeful endorsement of cruelty to his petulant ignorant insistence on scapegoats, this tangerine toddler is simply a living troll, a fleshy middle finger waddling in the face of progress – a vermillion butt plug villainously jammed up a body longing to empty its shit.  It says a lot about a country when half its population willfully accepts a dangerously unqualified person to lead it so long as he made it okay to brutalize others.  It says all the wrong things in fact.
 
It’s not hard to imagine in the days ahead some tragic nightmare ensuing.  The National Guard firing into peaceful protests isn’t unheard of in United States history.  However, even then, though some may not have been swayed to the cause of those who died, they didn’t have an entire media machine devoted to demonizing those killed.  There’s no reason to doubt certain personalities, whether on Fox News, TheBlaze, or Breitbart, will blame protesters shot by the Peking duck skinned president. 
 
“Bullets were burning a path towards law and order.  They were in the way, so got what they deserved.” 

Traces of John Adams, founding father and 2nd president, come to mind.  Defending the British troops who killed Crispus Attucks, Adams argued the Boston Massacre happened because too many people in the crowd were of an undesirable sort.  Troops couldn’t be expected to do anything except shoot into a crowd composed of “a motley rabble of saucy boys, negros and molattoes, Irish teagues and outlandish Jack Tarrs." 
 
Good historians never say the past repeats, but they all agree it often rhymes.  It seems about to in the days ahead.  The days are turning blue to grey, and every melody is the start of a funeral dirge.  One can only hope Floridian death metal isn’t about to make a comeback.  A bunch of throat cancer scream demons shouting about surgery and smoking weed isn’t what we need right now.  (Well, maybe not the surgery.)  We need empathy, compassion, and leaders who care about people, not making themselves look tough by ordering the assault and murder of their own civilians. 
 
However, to do so would require a level of humanity our pumpkin president not only lacks, but happily refuses to aspire towards.  Yet, there is hope.  Slender thread though it may seem, the silver lining is there.
 
Protests around the world have shown support for the cause here in the United States.  Outspoken white nationalist dumpster fire Stephen King lost his primary election.  Conservatives like George Will are calling for a democratic purge this November – vote out the carrot colored catastrophe.  Even decrepit Christian huckster Pat Robertson has spoken out against the laranja loser, saying his handling of the recent protests and riots quote “isn’t cool.” 
 
Progress is painfully slow, especially in an internet era.  A relativistic sense of how fast things could happen grates against the painful reality of how slow they actually occur.  It’s that grinding that’s pissing people off, and the inches accrued while miles lie ahead are boiling blood.  But things are moving.  You are not alone.  And the nightmare people, those defenders of the old and ugly, they’re literally and figuratively dying off. 
 
Change is coming.  At least, that’s what needs to be kept in mind.  Hope.  Otherwise, this is all for nothing.  Giving up makes every death truly meaningless.  None of them had to die, and none of them wanted to be martyrs – George Floyd, Philando Castile, Rekia Boyd, Sam Dubose, Eric Garner, Walter Scott, Kathryn Johnston, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin… but we have to keep striving towards justice because, simply put, Black Lives Matter. 
 
And it’s not African Americans who are in danger of stopping.  They will never stop.  History has proven that.  The onus is on white Americans to stand with them.  Not to lead but to follow, support, and only look back to remember the awful shit we need to leave behind, and never slide back into it.
 
Please take a moment to follow the link below.  Donate what you can, if you can, but at least take the time to read up on the issue.  There may be ways you can help you aren’t currently aware of. 
 
BLACK LIVES MATTER
https://blacklivesmatter.com/
 

This week I've got the special privilege of taking over the Graveyard Shift over at Kendall Reviews.  I've got eight books to make it through the long dark as well as a bit of music and a single luxury.  However, it's not just the titles, it's the why behind each choice that really makes this article an interesting read.  

Afterward, be sure to float around the site to see all the magnificent ways horror is promoted.  There are book reviews aplenty which might just help you find a terrifying gem you've been missing.  Obviously I'm inclined to recommend the Why I Write Horror archive (because I've got an article in there), but it's also a fascinating series where writers share what makes them pen nightmares.  

While I know there are a lot of very serious things going on in the world, I also know we need distractions.  Even if only brief, a break from the madness all around can be significantly comforting.  I had a blast composing this list, and I suspect it may direct you to reads you've either never considered or haven't explored in a while.  So, come with me as I take over as warden of the Graveyard Shift.