Away Again

It’s the last day before retreat. This one’s twice as long as usual: two weeks. Fourteen days of silent practice.

Last time didn’t go so well. This time, there is a different event that will occur while I’m disconnected from the standard news channels.

I guess this has a likelihood of 1% or less of happening. Yet Kasich (or any other moderate Republican) seems different enough from Trump on important metrics such as “is likely to make some simple foreign policy mistake that spirals into total nuclear annihilation” that it’s possibly worth pushing on that, in terms of expected number of lives saved. So remember as the date draws nearer that I’ll be unable to do anything about it besides sit, and let that motivate you: if it helps to say “what would mrdomino do,” do that. To the extent that you have some sort of idealized version of me in your head that’s any different from the naive, fearful, doubt-wracked person I usually experience these days, use that instead.

Also please don’t do anything dumb like cold email Republican electors with messages imploring them to vote for Hillary Clinton or something. Maybe instead just do some research on the electoral college and other related topics. I don’t know. Get creative.

In other news, perhaps you read my vague request to get in touch with me on Signal recently. I had that partially composed and was going to fill in some blank to explain why, but then I figured it was better to just leave it and allow the sense of mystery to add fuel to the motivation to do it rather than wait around. Thanks for getting in touch, those who did. Feel free to do so, anyone else—just send me your number via any medium I’m paying attention to, or request mine.

But so that vague message may have left an impression that I was starting some kind of terrorist cell or something. Although of course I’d loudly and repeatedly deny that in public even if it were the case, I would like to deny it at moderate volume at least once. I fully intend to live a boring, ordinary, and maximally lawful life for as long as it’s possible to do that—I just don’t want to get caught like a boiling frog, and I don’t know what kind of world I’m going to return to.

Frankly, it’s been a little odd to take these digressions from consensus reality with things as they are these days. Last time the world I came back to was markedly different—markedly darker, markedly sadder than the world I left. What’s going to happen this time?