It’s Alright, Ma

At so many points yesterday different lines from Dylan’s song It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) rang in my head like a gong.

The first one:

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying

This in a sort of arch, maybe darkly humorous way. Ya know, I best get my fat arse outta bed and get busy being born (AKA doing the physical therapy exercises that keep me semi-mobile).

Temptation’s page flies out the door
…
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing

That’s me – the last sigh (and groan) before getting up, putting on my sweats, resigning myself to Exercise Land.

Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred

Dylan wrote this in 1965. That’s 60, count ‘em, 60 motherfucking years ago and NOTHING has changed. Things have only gotten worse.

But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked

Maybe but will that ever matter? Will he ever be held responsible for his crimes against humanity? I doubt it. Will any of his asskissing minions – Rubio? Bondi? Bessent? Kegseth? Lutnick? Noem? McMahon? Gabbard? Zeldin? Vought? 

Them? Maybe.

An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it

If the Fascists (AKA Republicans) succeed in dismantling Medicare and Social Security, there’s an excellent chance my life will be FAR shorter than it would be otherwise. I’m still alive, ranting, and moving right now thanks to the wonders of chemistry (and my perennial pigheadedness). Chemistry ain’t cheap though, especially when you buy in bulk.

Speaking of a shortened life – you’ll never guess who showed up on my doorstep again yesterday. The Jesus peddlers, the Jehovah’s Witnesses. These ASL fluent JWs stopped by a couple times before. I made it clear right from the get-go that I was NOT interested in their religion BUT I enjoyed the ASL practice.

THAT was a mistake – they viewed it as a opening. The second (or third) time they dropped by was nine years ago, right after The Amazing Bob died (no, they were unaware). I told them it was a bad time, I wasn’t up for company as I’d just lost TAB. These carnivorous fucking social reprobates heard that and went in for the conversion kill. Lemme just tell you folks, there is NO better way to lift me out of depression than to make me angry. Boyhowdy mes amis, come after me like I’m some low rent carnival mark and, babies, you’re gonna reap that whirlwind. Bet. I will NOT be victimized.

Yep, the twats skedaddled and didn’t return. Until yesterday – nine years later. I was on the elliptical (which is by the front door) when Ten answered the doorbell. They said, apparently, that they’d come to see me. I didn’t recognize them and didn’t invite them in – safety first – don’t bring strangers into your home. I was beginning to get a sense of who and what they might be as they began signing. It came back to me that the clueless faccia di culo on the left was the one I’d deservedly berated off my porch almost a decade ago.

What did I do this time? As I slowly got off my elliptical and looked them over, trying to understand what the fuck was going on, I started playing up the tired, deaf, old, lame broad shtick. “Ooooh, Ten honey, I can’t stand” (which was actually true as I’d just finished a 30 minute workout). He wheeled over my rollator like a mobile throne. Once seated, I turned to the woman I more or less recognized (but refused to acknowledge) and asked in a pleasant but all business tone, “so, who are you and what can I do for you?” Ten had brought out my tablet on which the voice to text app Live Transcribe is always running BUT it didn’t pick up either woman’s voice. I choose to believe this was the machine’s conscious choice. This, plus chatter between the women and between the women and Ten went on for a few minutes before the women basically said, I believe, nevermind and vamoosed.

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear

I could have been more direct and ferocious when she said “remember” (one of the few words I lipread). Yeah, I remember your swinish attempt to take advantage of me while I was in the very heart of grief over my husband’s death. I remember your empathy devoid conversion effort. Tell me, do you get paid for each new recruit? I’m an atheist now, hon – that’s the harvest you’ve sown. (okay, that’s just dramatic flourish. I’d be an atheist/agnostic anyway)

Why didn’t I? Eh, I didn’t immediately recognize them and it was more fun to toy with her slowly — watch their faces, obviously uncomfortable and embarrassed, as they hurried away. Asshole? Who me? I like me!

Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to

My experience with the god bothers yesterday was a small thing. What we’re facing as a nation is huge. The lessons, for me, are the same,

And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only