Distillation

It's the 20th anniversary of the nastiest sneak attack we've ever had on US soil.  

Rage has distilled into bitterness.  Because, thanks to the chattering political nitwits, the post turtles, and the FICUS, nothing has really changed.  

Not because we didn't wake up.  But because most of the country rolled over and went back to sleep.  Were sung back to sleep by the twats selected by our political betters to run the country pushing the idea that of course it couldn't happen again...see all of the security theater we put together?  It keeps us all safe.  Never mind that it's been proven to not work...or that the agents and agencies put in place have been proven, over and over again, to be morons and thieves...  

And now.  

Now.  

The FICUS who uses the imperial first person plural pronouns to indicate itself has not just demonstrated its own uselessness, but has given the enemy the understanding that the nation is as weak as it is.  As stupid and as inept.  

Because we elected* it right? 

The FICUS has not just set us up for more attacks, but also imported our attackers without vetting that they were actually in danger if left in place (and, in fact, it's been pointed out that several Afghanis brought over were likely terrorists, even as we drone-bombed our own allies by "accident").  

So, no.  I'm not angry anymore.  I'm bitter, and filled with cold rage, but not angry.  

I'm way past angry.