Though I am an incredible cynic about the larger-scale state of American democracy, I am not one of those people who just sits out the vote altogether. Local governance is still an important thing that hasn’t been completely corrupted by forces of capital, and when done right, can substantially better the lives of community members.

Here in Los Angeles, we have an incredibly important mayoral race that will very much determine whether or not this city even has the potential to improve over the next decade. If Nithya Raman can pull off a win, there’s actually hope that this city can change some of the issues that are currently being completely ignored by city hall. There are also broader California measures—such as taxing billionaires—that are not remotely close to what I want but still better than nothing. (This would be a one-time, five-percent tax that I believe should be annual and closer to 35%.)

Yet, nationally, everyone is expecting a blue wave of Democratic candidates to win seats in the US Senate that are currently held by Republicans. Like, cool, good for y’all who care, but I really don’t understand the psychology of people excited about this. The Democrats have long-proven they will do nothing on major issues. Even if they had a supermajority in the Senate, I bet they’ll say, “Trump will veto our legislation and we can’t get a 2/3 majority, so why bother?”

It is a party of corrupt, mostly right-leaning Zionists and capitalists who have always voted to fund ICE and Israel. To think they’ll do anything about either of those—much less somehow control the global economic landscape and bring down gas or food prices—is legitimately insane at this point. Let’s not forget when Obama was elected, the Democrats also had a supermajority in the Senate and held the House and still didn’t pass universal healthcare or close Guantanamo Bay.

In 2026, to believe in the Democratic party, much less expect anything from them, is a fool’s errand. It has been nearly 20 years of complete disappointment that goes even further back to Bill Clinton rolling out a fairly right-wing agenda in law enforcement, telecommunications, and public services. While I understand any measure to curtail the insanity of the Trump administration is at least a step in the right direction, I will be shocked if the liberals do anything more than write strongly-worded letters about why the United States is doing bad things.

At a national level, Election Day has become a moment where pundits on the news networks try to justify their existence and the people can feel a remote garnish of hope to temporarily mute the stink of the pile of shit that is the US government. It is a profoundly stupid day, a performance of smoke and mirrors by a bunch of snake-oil salesmen, and the continued belief in it is exactly why the people are doomed to a future of ruin.

Rain on Larchmont

The past two days have seen some much-needed, long-awaited rain—mostly because the temperature has been down in the mid-70s.

The recent weather—the intensely hot summer and the upcoming rainy season—is all from a ‘super El Niño,’ but this one they’re saying is so immense it’s earned the nickname of a Godzilla El Niño. While whether or not it’s a direct correlation to the climate crisis isn’t possible to prove, studies show it’s probable.

As the heat in summer increases we’ll need an increasing amount of power to stay cool, which plays into the whole energy debate that is at the center of all this. But in the winter the problem in LA is something else entirely—the existing city infrastructure just can’t handle rain. Every time it floods more than a couple inches, entire streets flood and mudslides threaten many areas across the region.

And that’s the thing about the climate crisis—for so many years we’ve been calling it ‘global warming,’ and so the general image that comes to mind is just the temperature is going to rise. But the weather is going to threaten all kinds of infrastructure around the weather, and I don’t think many people appreciate the causes and effects of weather systems (and how much destruction they can bring). Today, I’m enjoying the rain, but tomorrow, we might all be underwater.

Zionists will be lamenting the attack against Israel today in 2023, and it’s a load of bullshit. Not that the attack didn’t happen or anything—but that Israel is somehow the victim. When decades of oppression and violence result in retribution, you can’t collectively claim innocence.

There’s also the fact the IDF was ordered to enact the Hannibal Directive, which basically says to kill anyone and everyone—Israeli soldiers and citizens included—to avoid hostages being taken. These casualties were blamed on Hamas, even if they were not the ones who pulled the trigger. (This is from a report by Haaretz, an Israeli newspaper.)

The years since have seen non-stop violence perpetuated by Israel, predominantly against citizens, with complete support of Israelis and western governments alike. American colleges punish protesters and quelled free speech while allowing for violent counter-protests and police intervention. England mass arrests the public who support Palestine. Primary media sources—The New York Times stateside and the BBC across the pond—both have repeatedly published support of Israel and frame headlines constantly to portray them as the victim and downplay what is happening in Gaza.

Simply put, if you support Israel now you would have supported Germany then. Perpetuating a genocide can be swept under a flag of any color. Seeing other people as subhuman to the point they deserve extermination—especially when your justification is some millennia-old myth from a book—is ideologically grotesque to the point there probably isn’t a word vulgar enough to describe it.

These days I’ve been thinking about the boiling frog.

The boiling frog is an apologue describing a frog being slowly boiled alive. The premise is that if a frog is put suddenly into boiling water, it will jump out, but if the frog is put in tepid water which is then brought to a boil slowly, it will not perceive the danger and will be cooked to death. The story is often used as a metaphor for the inability or unwillingness of people to react to or be aware of sinister threats that arise gradually rather than suddenly.

Obviously this can be used as a metaphor for power and greed, which I think the United States is a prime example of in its 45-year decline since Reagan took office and conservatism has chipped away at just about everything that was beneficial to the people at large. Today, though, I’m thinking about it in a more literal sense.

Los Angeles is currently being hit with its third heat wave this summer. Usually in LA, the season is certainly on the warmer side, generally ranging between 80 and 90 degrees Fahrenheit with a few days that reach the hundreds. This year we’ve had three separate occasions where week-long heat waves where the low temperature would be 95 and even the middle of the night will be 80. While this is also a side effect of the Super El Niño going on, it certainly raises some eyebrows when it comes to climate change.

At this point it’s deadly obvious the United States has no interest in preparing for the possibly apocalyptic levels of displacement and death that could occur over the next 20-50 years. It’s not like the wealthy would care—they will most likely profit in air-conditioned offices and afford to avoid any catastrophes, and if a substantial amount of the population dies off, that means the remaining resources on Earth are proportionally larger. And they certainly don’t care about animals.)

While we’ve been the frog in the pot metaphorically for some time, now it seems like we’re in the literal phase. The climate is going to get more extreme, but not all at once. It’s just going to get slowly worse, with a few more deaths every year, until it’s far too late. Those in power will throw up their hands and say, “There’s nothing we can do about it now, you’re all on your own.” The domino effect of social deterioration will accelerate and there’s a decent chance Mad Max: Fury Road is retroactively seen as some kind of prophecy.

And the only way out of the pot is through wealth—and who knows how long that will really extend your life with the possible consequences of this looming crisis.

I haven’t really been writing much about politics these days. When I do, it tends to be pretty local or small-scale. Though I haven’t been making a ton of art, any political ideas never get too far.

Earlier this year, Conor Oberst talked about the difficulty of making protest-oriented art in the time of Trump. It’s the great paradox of Trump that is perhaps the most interesting thing about him: For a man with so many obvious character flaws, with only self-interest in his heart, he is remarkably difficult to actually insult. He is incredibly vain and therefore does care about image, but only in a specific capacity that art, or perhaps even language, doesn’t have a known capacity for.

Like I said, it’s a challenge, but one that I would think and hope any artist would be up for at least trying to overcome. That hasn’t really been my problem. Trump is just a guy, and in the end he’s a symptom of the disease, not the disease itself.

What has become impossible, though, is reconciling the parallel horrors that have become the background noise of everyday life. The ongoing genocide in Gaza being one line; the Epstein Files being another. Blatant evidence of human life being ruined or ended at a massive scale to no consequence at all.

I have to imagine the only parallel in the United States would be living during the time of the slave trade. Slavery allowed for the evil to be on display the way it is now being broadcast over social media—after slavery but before the internet, the forces of white supremacy could use the media to generally control the discourse around atrocities. They could two-sides any scandal.

But there’s no way out of this one. These events are a mirror. From Palestine to Little St. James, there is no excuse for the systems that are operating via child trafficking, murder, mass rape, or ethnic cleansing to continue—much less for those who participate in any of it to get away unscathed. There is no room for debate. At some point, a line must be drawn, and to my mind, we crossed it years ago.

I’ve always felt that art is the closest thing we have to being able to get a better understanding of the soul. But these past few years have been killing off whatever was left of that human spirit, to the point where I ask myself, What am I even trying to relate to anymore?

Making art right now feels like hosting a party inside of a burning house. Anyone who wants to be entertained in this moment isn’t someone I’d want to entertain. But the lack of consequences for these monumental horrors are now embedded in our culture. And that makes me feel I just don’t want to participate in that culture any longer.