Here's how it went down. 0600 and the phone rings, "What?" slightly terse perhaps. "Hey dad, I'm at the 7-11 next to Walmart and the car won't shift out of park." Huh, I thought grimly, "So you need a ride to Fort Hood?" Sure enough, that's exactly what was needed and off I drove.
It was a good drive as the sun rose over the expanse of Texas, though I35 was crazy as usual. Then there we were at Hood or Fort Carvasio, or whatever it's called now. Seriously, how many People of Color (POC) benefited in any way, at all, from the name change? Like wow, just look how the indigent POCs in Killeen have prospered since.
That's the thing with virtue signalling mountebanks, they come on fast with good if fatuous slogans, like Black Lives Matter. Nice, of course they do, but who actually profits? Why, the virtue signalers themselves. You'll note BLM's founders are living in mansions now, poor POCs? Not so much, they haven't received a penny. The Biblical term for this is hypocrite.
Regardless, it was good to be back at Fort Hood and the soldiery seemed well presented if preposterously young. And the malfeasant vehicle's been towed to the Compound where it sits, awaiting the attention of a mobile mechanic or, more likely, a tow to a shop on Monday. Its issue? A broken linkage cable.
Easy fix, apparently, but I'm not about to try. In the meanwhile, what can we say?
Vivat,
LSP
