On the Eve: A Plea

BY KATHY PERUTZ

 

It’s fast upon us now, the Vote that will lead us to chaos or keep us (though with dependably violent after-shocks) on the side of civilization.  A friend from England emailed me that the rest of the world really should be entitled to vote in the American election, since it affects the entire world.  And so it does.

The orange blob is the greatest menace of my lifetime.  Or, to be low-keyed about it, just think of what 4 Supreme Court appointees by Trump would do.  Revoke Roe v. Wade to start, then maybe Brown v. the Board of education. . .  who knows? Declaring certain kinds of people (gays, blacks, Jews, Muslims, migrants, Hispanics) non-people, which is the greatest argument since slavery.  In fact, it WAS the argument for slavery, as it was for the Holocaust.  If you declare some citizens to be monkeys, they will not have human rights.  Logic is clear, though I am not sure the word logic or any other derivation of Logos, the word (as in: In the beginning was the Word) should even be brought up when mentioning the orange blob, since logic, facts, history and even what he said a minute ago hold no validity to an ever-changing, vacuous, self-regarding brain no larger than the smallest of his famously small fingers.

In short, we must slay the monster.

VOTE!!!! And whether you like Hillary, can’t stand her, were/are a Bernie person or favored her over Obama, doesn’t matter anymore.  Third party candidates mean a throwaway vote. So do write-ins.  Those kind of votes are only of interest to very young people determined above all else to show they have a mind of their own.  Minds don’t matter right now; in fact, not even politics matter right now.  And if you’re in a “safe” state, vote anyway.  The popular vote is extremely important, since we know that if Blob don’t make it, he’ll be contesting everything.  Yesterday the chant in New Hampshire went from Lock her Up!  to Execute her! – a wonderful throwback to the days of Stalin, via Putin, via Blob.   And my last-minute hope was dashed two days ago, when the woman raped by Blob at the age of 13 refused to testify because of all the death threats.  Surely, I thought, remembering my years working in prisons, a child rapist is the lowest of the low, and even the prison population attacks such a criminal.  Maybe, I thought, all those crackers would finally turn away in disgust.

My husband Michael and I voted already, absentee ballots since we can’t get to the polls, he needing oxygen and my cancer becoming more demanding.  We’re on our way out, but please, everybody who can do anything about it, keep this country, this world and this planet alive.  Vote!!!

 

In My Beginning

BY KATHY PERUTZ

 

They met at a masked ball in Prague. I never learned what their costumes were, but certainly her mane of auburn hair must have entranced him, and his tall dark handsomeness no doubt caught her eye. He came from Vienna but was working here in a business established by his grandfather, as he’d done since he was 16 and his father died. She was born in the town of Beroun, just outside Prague, and never went to school in her life. Her father, director of a textile mill and anglophile in his ways (orange marmalade and toast for breakfast, the London Times, English wool in winter), provided her with tutors. Her older sister and brother went to University but not Dolly. She was the pretty one, the pampered one, home-schooled, intuitive and wonderful at tennis, which she played with her coach on the family’s court.

When they met at the ball, I’m sure he filled her carnet de bal with waltzes Tino loved waltzing and as a Viennese took to it naturally, spinning round and round in the same direction without getting dizzy. She was a little stiff in his arms, she held herself very straight and proud and even then, I’m sure, they looked like the perfect couple.

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