There’s a lot of outrage in the United States over Donald Trump’s latest comments, because of course there is. This time it happens to be an attack on Representative Ilhan Omar and a subsequent literal rallying cry by his supporters, but I mean, who the fuck is even surprised by this anymore?

Trump made an administration based on the mechanics that allowed him to win: escalation combined with a forgiving media—and by ‘forgiving media’ I mean one that is so entrenched in news cycles as a form of profitability that all new stories eclipse the old. This notion of existing only in-the-moment allows for the outrage to repeat as long as Trump gives a new reason for it to.

And this outrage is easy. It’s hollow. Take another recent abhorrent event, the blocking of health coverage for 9/11 First Responders (a cause to which Jon Stewart has thankfully reclaimed some air time for). After 9/11, the talking points were You’re with us or against us and It’s unpatriotic to not support the President and Never forget.

—Now the talking points are about cost structures, even though the state seems hell-bent on spending a trillion dollars on a war plane that can’t fly. But the talking points begin with Rand Paul and at Fox News, subsequently resonating across the internet. The idea that trolling liberals is more important to these right-wing morons than common decency toward people who show up for jobs these online idiots would be far too cowardly to attempt is just as bad as the spineless democrats who try and compromise with their ilk instead of telling them to sit down and shut the fuck up like the children they are.

Maybe it’s that Americans have adopted the news cycle as a model for civilization; that the past is not an accumulation of evidence but simply an archive of Well, that happened sentiment. Maybe it’s because the actual issues that plague society—capitalism, technocratic ideologies and individualist motivation—would threaten the wealth of too many in power and the dreams of those working to get there. Maybe America is just doomed to repeat these vicious cycles of faux-rage and self-indulgent victimization as immigrants get rounded up and representatives threatened until it all breaks down.

How soon we forget.

The eight-hour time zone difference between Ireland and America means any major event in the States, I usually wake up to instead of read about in real-time—the way most things go these days. This creates a non-specific sense of dread, in that checking The Guardian or The New Yorker each morning is going to have one horrifying new story or another.

That sort of fear creates a general anxiety, less with regard to certain doom and more that its very existence seems a pretty strong piece of evidence that everything is completely fucked.

Today is different though. Right now everyone in America is asleep. And when they wake, the horrors of targeted raids against immigrants will begin. The Trump administration has blatant disregard for any concept of human rights and the impending violence—both physical and psychological—of what will happen in America just hours from now is an indefensible atrocity.

And those atrocities will be the headlines I will wake to on Monday. That this grotesque cycle of fear is making it easier to predict the future is truly terrifying. That it is defended by some, funded by ‘the opposition’ and ignored by most is tragic. That it is becoming routine for this depraved indifference to keep advertising revenue flowing into Op-Ed pages is quintessentially American.

the dead-end ephemera of The West used to be plastic toys on the middle shelf sold at grocery stores. now it’s the intangible, all-consuming cloud of frustration that is the interconnected contemporary human psyche.

—sitting today listening in one ear to Tom Waits and the other to stories from East Germany Before The Wall Fell and reading the various official documents describing the President raping a child and i have to remind myself that any light i see at the end of this tunnel is that of an oncoming train—

we all just flail through the patterns of personal belief, each a fragment on this fractal of existence. every life an equation, dividing itself down to zero. the heart is a chisel and time is the hammer that hits it into our fragile bodies. history is a sleight-of-hand trick. the future is a dead rabbit.

if art is just going to entertain the people who don’t have to afford to give a shit about anything until the end of the world, then what the fuck is the point? opportunists and amateur humans come in all forms.