My friend Harjit told me about an incident where some racist fuckwit threatened his teenaged cousin recently. Stomach turning. Everything’s okay, like no one’s hurt, but really it’s not okay. That stuff is never okay and there’s nothing to say about it that will make it better and I can’t fucking stand things where there’s nothing to say that will make it better, especially the things where people are clearly just fucked and I get so angry and then I get doubly angry because I know my anger is useless at least in the short term relative to the situation that provoked the anger.

My middle brother, now 20, went through a similar incident as a kid in rural Illinois. I was telling Harjit about it, which reminded me I wrote a thinly fictionalized short short story about it during my period of unemployment a few years back when I was doing a bit of fiction writing, or maybe from before then. I wrote a story about that asshole, that’ll teach him… what a stupid world.