There’s a lot of noise in the media these days about Texas. Is it some kind of neo-fascist Platonic Ideal, instantiated, Aristotle-style, in a landmass that’s as big or bigger than a lot of lesser countries?
Or is it a place where the frontier, with its God, guns, church and country life, looms large? A place where people don’t look too kindly at latte swilling coastal elites telling them to get with the program and ride the rainbow. Whatever the case, I took my dog for a walk after Morning Prayer and went in search of Texas.
|Hey, Look at This.|
The Nepalese woman at the pick ‘n steal accepted my money for a coffee, while a crew of Park Department workers played scratch card lottery. Some were black, some were white, some were Latino. They were having fun, loudly, at losing the lottery and the coffee tasted pretty good. Have to hand it to the Nepalese, they make damn good fighting knives and excellent coffee. Was that Texas?
On the way home, I passed 4 churches in the space of 4 blocks. Blue Destroyer used the entrance of one as a “convenience,” he’s a cow dog. Maybe that’s Texas? Then I found a snake skin on the side of the road.
Satisfied with finally finding Texas, I went back to the Compound.
That is all.