The Show Must Go On

There’s hardly anything to say.

Okay. I’m lying.

Anne Frank opens this weekend or Diary as I’ve been calling it lately.

It’s part of a community thing called “The Ripple Effect,” and its purpose is to raise awareness and to let us not forget the Holocaust. They’re trying to collect 6 million pennies in remembrance of the 6 million Jewish people who died.

*gently holding a rainbow flag*
Sometimes I am irked that those who were forced to wear pink triangles are also forced to suffer horrible fates, are sometimes forgotten.
At the end of the day, it’s about hate.

Hitler was once quoted as saying “If the Jews didn’t exist, we’d have to invent them.”
And that is about finding a scapegoat to further one’s la de da de da.

Social manipulation...manipulate manipulate... over time. That man put so many bugs in people’s ears about what is right and what is wrong, and what needed to be done. I can imagine for some it was hard to resist the social osmosis that was prevailing on the European winds in those days.

Should you find yourself near a copy of Mein Kampf, you probably won’t want to open it. On my bookshelf it rests next to a book about palmistry.

If you do want to read it, feel free, by all means.

But when it’s boiled down, to me it just seems to be the ramblings of a paranoid schizophrenic.

And it’s boring.

Coffee. I love coffee, stimulating...

The art show came and went. I didn’t get accepted. The judge found it to be to “cartoony” and “full of angst.” For me, the words “angst” and “cartoon” in the same sentence seem to make a happy marriage.