Sweethearts at the Park

The Sacramento River Cats played against the Las Vegas 51s, to which my sweetheart had tickets and there was barbecue and cotton candy and the River Cats lost 1 runs to 2. It was a game of solid fielding including a sweet line-drive catch by Las Vegas and an amazing double play by Sac.

I’ve not watched baseball in a while, and found it far more interesting a game than I expected, even if the ninth inning was disappointingly uneventful. I may write about it if I can get my thoughts in order, but tonight I’m not very thinky.

The new place feels very homey. A comfortable desktop computer station, a steady supply of clothes and a cat and this will be my home. I’m digging it.

I’m also anxious about it. I think change is scary, even when it’s change for the better.

This week’s news has had more than the usual amount of police abuse. Big asset seizures, disrespect of the rights of ordinary civilians, even an anal rape. The usual voices have been demanding reprisal and revolt. Other voices tell us the authorities do no wrong, because the victim deserved persecution according to a rationale that I could not understand.

I feel paranoid. In fact I kinda hope i am. But this isn’t UFOs and water fluoridation and assassination conspiracy cover-ups, it’s a steady stream of news events, and the FBI expressing policy unlike a transparent law enforcement agency, but an opaque intelligence organization that regards the civilian people as the enemy, and seeks more to control a nation than to serve it.

I can only write so much of my political concerns and then in short spurts, and I’d rather share the joy of a baseball game experience. Still, to borrow a sentiment from David Mitchell, I want to be as far from the narrative of a political / spy thriller as possible, and the cloaks and daggers feel very close.


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