Blah blah, buncha stuff, yadda yadda, mine at the end.

First we have this rather awesome trailer for a documentary.

I am amazed that I did not know Bill Clinton had a little person in his Cabinet before now. And one with a hell of a voice too, I might add.

That looks like an amazing documentary, and it fills me with hope because clearly, cultural momentum is building and the articulators are rising to the challenge of facing this nadir age of attacks against all the founding principles of modern society by the billionaire barbarians of the private jet set.

Kind of makes me feel like I should be part of that, or rather, a better part of it. I am putting my voice out there on YouTube, but if nobody’s watching, what’s the point?

But I never have been any good at attracting attention to myself. I guess I will just have to hang around being right until someone notices.

Doesn’t seem like a great plan, but it’s all I have until I grow a pair and learn to make my voice heard above the throng.

I just hope that when my ship does come in, I am still alive to enjoy it.

We articulators have petty human needs too. We want fame and fortune and a comfortable lifestyle just as much as anybody else.

We are, after all, just human beings, no matter how big our words make us seem sometimes.

And being a loudspeaker is not easy.

Next up, check out this marvelous story about just how scary the modern Klu Klux Klan is.

The answer, of course, is “not scary at all”. They are just a bunch of old, inbred hillbillies, rednecks, and ol’ boys who mostly just get together to get drunk and eat BBQ and raise a hoot and a holler.

And sure, some of the stuff they say there might well offend you so bad the milk in your fridge turns sour. And they would be mighty pleased to hear that because making your enemies mad without a lot of effort is always a pleasure, especially to a despised minority that has embraced the doctrine that violent opposition simply means they are the ones holding the One Truth against the opposition of the deluded masses too corrupt to embrace it.

Viewed that way, they are far more pitiful than scary. Racism has always seemed pathetic to me. If you have sunk all your self-worth into some accident of birth that you had no part of creating or choosing, that you can never lose and that by all rational measurement is quite meaningless, you are already showing that you are a pretty sad human being just by that.

But the real tragedy is that the Klan had its roots in the Antebellum South, which was arguably the highest level of civilization the South ever had, and whose civilized and genteel virtues would be vehemently and violently eshewed by the modern members of the KKK.

They like the racism part, though. And the putting on airs.

Next slide, please. Ah, here we are : a simply marvelous tale of fascism and homosexuality.

Now you might be thinking that fascism and homosexuality have a very complicated relationship that is mostly very negative. Fascists are invariably violently homophobic while simultaneously worshiping male virtue to a very gay degree.

But this is a very happy story where something awful led to something marvelous.

See, a small-town Italian mayor wanted to assure Mussolini’s government that he was a good Fascist, and so he used the age of tactic of picking on the homos. He had 45 of the local queers rounded up and exiled to a tiny island off the coast of Italy.

But that’s where things get good, because on said island, there was no supervision. This was the sort of exile colony where the prisoners are simply left to fend for themselves, and so suddenly, there was 45 fags on an island together with no meddling relatives or authorities to interfere with them pursuing their natural proclivities, and hence for them, this island was Paradise.

Sure, they got locked in dormitories every night by the cops, but big deal. Locked in with a bunch of other fags. What WILL we do.

Isn’t it obvious? They dressed in drag and did theatre!

And, presumably, fucked and sucked each other with gay abandon.

I really think there is a movie in this story. A light comedy. The only sad part is that when World War II ended, they all had to go home to their hometowns!

And finally, here is my own bit of light comedy for the day.

Sometimes I am the Mighty Articulator. Sometimes I am the fabulistic Spinner of Dreams.

And sometimes I am just a goofy ass clown having fun and playing the fool.

Guess which facet I am showing in the above clip?

I really do not know how to handle my own complexity. I have so many facets, so much potential, so many possible paths, that I just do not know where to go or who I really am.

And I cannot just pick one facet and cut off all the others. I am just not built that way.

What I need, I realize, is a conception of self that can encompass all my talents and possibilities. I know that I am not my facets, I am the jewel, but that only opens the door.

All I can do is, over time, refine my whole self in such a way that some facets naturally come to the fore and are reinforced.

This is, mathematically speaker, a chaotic process. The number of factors in highly complex interrelationships makes the outcome impossible to predict.

But I am working on my faith. I have lived a faithless life for too long, and it’s high time I learned to trust something or someone, even if that is just another reflection of my self.

And so I have faith that this journey of mine can only lead to a saner, stronger me.

And until then, I mutate in silence.