Communism is sticking a lit cigarette in your arm, to make the other pain go away.
For what it’s worth, I’m doing well. Sometimes the possibility of horror in life just strikes me with its full weight.
Cubans are being locked in dog cages right now, where they may be left for months or even years. They are being tortured in less “soft” ways. Their families are being rounded up into dank filthy jails they may never get out of. Children. Sickly grandparents. Some of them are being shot.
And people in this country are lauding it. They are not just excusing it: they are praising it.
What should one make of such a world? What I make of it is one where there is a lot of work to do, and at the moment, seemingly, not enough people willing and able to do it, or even to see its necessity.
Deep feeling is not a crime: it is the only way of connecting back to our true Home.