Dear Fellow Fallen
Dear Fellow Fallen
This is a sermon that I gave to both of my math classes, on the week before Trump’s second inauguration.
Normally I wouldn’t inflict a sermon on you, but these are not normal times; for by the next time we meet, a 34-times convicted felon will have been inaugurated President.
Don’t worry, this will not be a religious sermon. It will be a spiritual sermon. The difference is that religious folk are scared to go to Hell, but spiritual folk have been to Hell and back. Dear fellow Fallen, welcome back to Hell. And since Hell is War, the next few years will a constant assault on your mind. You need to cultivate the art of psychic self-defense.
The Felon in Chief, from his overhead overclass hideout from justice, will trickle down a vile stream of lies, betrayals, and lunacy. There is his racism, and his bigotry, and of course the rapist is a misogynist, and of course the kleptocrat is a classist.
But what truly ticks off this teacher, what offends this mathematician, what enrages this liberal, is the felon’s contemptible contempt for logic, fact, and reason. The felon and his den of thieves don’t just want your money and your liberty; they also want to defile your mind. According to them, crime is law, and chaos is order, and war is peace, and poverty is wealth, and slavery is freedom, and ignorance is wisdom, and hate is love, and death is life, and up is down, and red is blue, and black is white, and false is true. According to them.
But according to me, two plus two is four. Not five, not even if you bribe me. Not three, not even if you threaten me. Two plus two is four, anywhere, everywhere, forever and ever, amen.
Dear fellow Fallen, that is the truth; and the truth hurts, but then it sets you free.
[I bowed.]
I have said my piece. Now let’s do some math.
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