Clarence Thomas Is Henry VIII

 Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," end of the Supreme Court calendar edition. I am one very pissed off Anne Johnson today.

In this circle of Hell called the USA, we have a court that is a final arbiter, containing three judges chosen by a president who did not win the popular vote. This is not how a democracy should work.

To make matters worse, we have a single individual on this court who rose from abject poverty to the priciest yacht travel in the world, who doesn't want anyone to think he did so because of affirmative action, because somehow the taint of affirmative action besmirches his clear superiority over all common folk.

This man parties like a king, and his wife behaves like a conniving queen. They sit in their luxury and make decisions that affect ordinary Americans without ever feeling the pain of the people whose lives they are impacting. Workers, women, debt-ridden college kids? Pish, tosh. Peons all. Pass the caviar.

When I was a teenager I couldn't get enough books about Tudor England. It always amazed me that Henry VIII could order his citizens to change churches on pain of death just because he wanted to divorce his old wife and marry a new, young one. Like, dude. You're ending peoples' lives because you're horny? You've got issues.

But Henry VIII was a king. America isn't supposed to have kings.

Turns out you can act like a royal without having the title. We have, on our Supreme Court, a sitting justice who enacts his own self-loathing as a fiat with bitter repercussions for rank-and-file citizens. His finances are opaque, his friend group is elite, and he only concerns himself with pleasing those few. Why? Because the man isn't comfortable in his own skin. He's a ruler with issues.

Of course this fucked-up operator has partners in crime, all with issues, all beholden to the moneyed interests. Multiple 50-year-old precedents overturned in one year. This is a disgrace more befitting an absolute monarchy than a democracy.

Aux armes, citoyens!

Felicitous Announcement

 It is with great pleasure that Lord Mark and Lady Anne Johnson announce the engagement of  their youngest daughter, Fair Johnson, to an amiable gentleman of high moral repute and moderate, diligent habits. The two young persons reached their understanding during a tour of the Italian provinces, concluding today. A date has not been set for the nuptials.

Lady Anne received this news with utmost enjoyment, having no other goal in life than the happy unions of her daughters with worthy gentlemen.

Making Magick Work

 A new entry from "The Gods Are Bored!" will wonders never cease?

Well, forgive me, friends. The last month of school is always a special circle of Hell. About the only good thing I can say is that I'm putting an enemy to work for me: Turns out Chat GPT cranks out wicked lesson plans in an eyeblink. And since my district wants my lesson plans to be basically novellas, I'm glad for the help.

Today's sermon is an update on my latest magick spell. I'm adding the "k" merely for algorithm, figuring there may be two or three American teens who are still Googling such things rather than going directly to Tik Tok.

Two months ago I learned that a very toxic person would be remaining in my workplace even though her high position had been eliminated. The elimination in effect made things worse for myself and my colleagues, as the toxic person took a demotion and is now once again in closer proximity to teachers and students. The drag on morale is palpable.

I mean this woman no harm, even though my limited interaction with her over the last several years has proven to me that she bitterly despises me. I guess I would feel bad if she didn't bitterly despise so many other people, but hey. It's how she rolls.

But it's possible to mean someone no harm and still work a spell on them. My goal is not to inflict any kind of pain on the person, but rather just have her heave a sigh of relief and move on to another phase of her life -- a phase that takes her out of my workplace.

Hence the "move on" spell.

It's an Appalachian hoo doo spell that requires one ingredient: dirt from an active railroad track. In a previous post I described my adventure in obtaining the dirt (no mean feat, as Amtrak guards its tracks zealously). Now, dirt in hand, I have begun the working.

Twice already I have had to turn in paper communications to this person. Each one looks just a tad smudged, especially at the places where her fingers would land. Adding a little extra to the effort, my notes to her have subtle wording having to do with moving:

*Moving this on down the line to you.

*I think we're making good forward progress.

These are the ones I've used so far. There will be more opportunities for this in the future.

Here is something I learned from my last successful spell: This magic comes at a cost. Through the efforts of my toxic boss (perhaps unwittingly) I am already out several hundred dollars in missed overtime opportunities. I am resigned to this outcome. It's the price of doing what I have to do.

I feel like I'm performing a public service. Over the past decade I have watched this woman make decisions that hurt students and teachers. I'm not alone in my low opinion of her. Some of my colleagues think that the demotion will humble her, but that remains to be seen. I'm skeptical.

Yours truly from the witch trenches I remain,

Anne Johnson