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It’s almost three a.m., for some reason — I haven’t had anything to drink — I feel lightheaded and shaky. I had a carrot juice, an arugula salad, and an espresso around midnight at a cafe, so I just don’t know what’s up. I had a good night, a philosophically rich night, philosophically rich conversation, with a friend. Generally I feel much freer than I have for a long time. So it’s almost as if my body is checking me, reminding me that I’m mortal. And point taken — I’m nothing if not mortal.
Tomorrow is the election and the city was so quiet tonight, as if in anticipation. Anticipation of what? I can’t say — I don’t know if anyone can. All I know is that Democrat or Republican, life in the city I live in will continue much in the way it always has. America is covertly, fundamentally, a one party system: every American votes for the money party, one way or another. Money will prevail tomorrow, like it always does. Money might wear fascist robes tomorrow, or socialist, but it will still have green skin underneath. The American form will remain the same, even if the content changes, ever so slightly.
Politics in America is a new season of the same show.
Money and mortality — constants in the existential equation.
