Anger

I've had anger - justifiably - over a lot of things for the past year or two. Cancer, death, politics, injustice, you name it. Just at the moment I have friends dealing with all sorts of crap from illness to injury to unemployment to poverty to... well, let's just say there's plenty to be angry about, both on friends' behalf and on the behalf of myself and my family.

But today? Today I'm mad at meth... is "cookers" the right word?

See, here's the thing. I have another sinus infection.

I haven't had them this often since before I had a few teeth removed almost six years ago.

So I went to the doctor today because fever and sinus pain/pressure/slight dizziness.

Yep, sinus infection, viral (good because I don't need antibiotics but bad because there's no real way to cure it; you just treat the symptoms). They also said my ears are inflamed but not infected, and I got the lovely experience (again) of having a giant Q-Tip shoved up my nose for a culture "just to make sure it is, in fact, viral."

Goody.

The problem is that sinus infections tend to go south into my lungs. I'm asthmatic, so if that happens, I usually get bronchitis or occasionally even pneumonia.

These are bad options.

So I go home, take a shot of NyQuil, have a cup of tea, and drink a gazillion fluids.

But why'd I get it in the first place?

"Oh, well," the doctor said, (and he knows; they have my chart), "it's a particularly bad year for allergies, and with the sort of stresses you've been under for the past two years, well, you're prone to infection."

Okay, but why is there enough gunk in there to get infected? I'm using the damn allergy meds.

The doctor smiled at me and said, "Thing is, the allergy meds tend to dry things out and clog them up. This is fine, if you're getting enough water, but most people aren't. So you end up getting an infection if you're a) prone to such things, and/or b) under major stress."

Oh.

Then I should blame meth cookers.

Because thanks to them, I can't get pseudo-ephedrine without signing away my first born, in triplicate, using the blood of a virgin hydra as ink, and a pen made from the feather of a baby gryphon.

So instead? I'm drinking enough fluids to float away.

Which still makes me better off than many of my friends.

But I don't have to like it.

Off the Wall

Even more so than usual.

When I heard today on my lunch break that our president had suggested the Border Wall be transparent, I thought my lunchmate was joking. Or reading a satire site, because that sounded a little odd even by this administration's standards.

But it was true.

So let me see if I understand this.

He still wants to put up the Border Wall, to keep out The Mexicans, who are Bad Hombres and Rapists™.

And he wants it made of glass.

Apparently this is so we Pure, Good Americans™ can see when the Bad Hombres™ are pitching 60lb bags of "stuff" over the top, and what? Dodge?

Uh-huh.

But, um, glass.

Because, see, while we have invented transparent aluminum (but not this transparent aluminum, which would presumably be cheaper than what we can make at the moment), that's a lot of wall to make out of anything at all, much less an expensive manufactured product that right now only comes in a maximum size sheet of 18x35 inches. So, assuming that you have to stack them in portrait mode, at least three high so it's taller than your Bad Hombres™, well, let's do the math...

There are 63,360 inches in a mile. There are 1989 miles along the US-Mexico border. That's 7,001,280 sheets of transparent aluminum in one layer. Stack 'em three high and that's 21,003,840 sheets of the stuff.

Doesn't sound cost effective, but I guess they'll save that much by un-insuring anyone who has a pre-existing condition, unless they're rich, white, and straight.

Or maybe he'll pay for it by appeasing Those Wacky Liberals™ by topping it off with solar panels.

This is not how reality works.