Over the next few days loads of people will begin to trickle into Vermont to watch the eclipse on Monday. There have been numerous warnings of Record-Level traffic, which is impressive, but what it implies is even more astonishing. 

There will almost certainly be more humans in the area of snowy hills called Vermont on Monday, that at any other time in human history. Considering the rarity of such events and the projections of human population levels, it seems likely that Monday will see more apes in Vermont than ever, past or future.

I don’t intend to go anywhere on Monday. I have work in the morning, and a nice yard to watch the eclipse in the afternoon. Jack and Elena might come by since they live close. I’ll see just them and Roby and Abby and Scout and Archie. 

I wonder if it’ll feel at all the way the 2016 election did. I was away in the mountains trimming weed on a farm in northern California. There was no phone service really, and all the people there were strangers. I was just working. 

We watched the election on satelite television and were as surprised as anybody else I suppose. We missed what I can only imagine was the cathartic group-mourning that occured in liberal cities across America the next day. The way people’ve described it has always fascinated me. Mass catatonia, a mutual inner knowledge of sadness and anxiety and historical horror.

In hindsight it’s a bit funny really, bunch of liberals worried about who would oppress them, someone who wears blue ties or red. They’re all shit up there, insider trading and watching as their immigrant cleaning ladies polish their stainless steel appliances or whatever it is people with more money than they can spend do in an effort to spend at least some of it. 

Buncha bastards. 

If Trump wins again, which I doubt, it can only be funny.

At least stonk market go up.