My party should be up in arms. Instead, my party, the party of principle, the party of freedom, chooses to focus on anything, literally anything else.
The days run together like negatives in a camera with a broken film winder.
There was a female Pharaoh named Hatshepsut…whose hieroglyphics were chiseled out of the stone monuments…
But what last name will the children have? Why not both? If one last name must be chosen, why not the mother’s name? And why is it assumed I will have children? That leads to another essay altogether.
Are we now putting on masks over masks? Without the best cosmetics showing off our makeover skills, is the playing field levelled in an unintended way?