Yesterday (well, three days ago) I said the world is weird. Today I think it’s lost its fucking mind. And no, that hasn’t changed in the last 48 hours.

 

I tried to write this weekend but couldn’t get anything to gel into a coherent thought. So I made an executive decision to take a little break.

 

The DIY Curse

 

Lots going on here at the Schloss. File this one under learn from your mistakes. A couple of years ago I hired someone to replace the living room floor at a cut-rate price. Shockingly, the work was exactly what I paid for. Now it’s split, broken, and about as bad as the hardwood it replaced. I’m as DIY as the next guy, but it was clear this installer had no clue what they were doing.

 

Anyway, back to the jam.

 

Nerves and Anniversaries

 

When I was younger and more cheerful, I saw a bumper sticker that read: “I have one nerve left and you’re standing on it.” At this point, I’m not sure I have any nerves left. Maybe it’s the “anniversary season” I’m going through, or maybe we’ve all just collectively lost our fucking minds.

 

This is my fifth attempt to write this. Maybe fifth time’s the charm. A lot happened this weekend — much of it good — but the external noise still hums in the background.

 

On Avoiding Politics (and Failing at It)

 

I usually steer away from politics here. If you want hot takes, the internet has no shortage of them. But the events of this past week and Saturday’s funeral pushed their way into my thoughts.

 

The man being eulogized was a divisive figure, to put it mildly. Many disliked his message, and with good reason — it was filled with vitriol, exclusion, and sometimes outright calls for violence. Yet when he was murdered, even people who opposed him were quick to offer condolences to his family. The irony is sharp: those he targeted often had a more charitable response to his death than he ever had for them in life.

 

This connects to my own grief. I’ve written before about how damaging it is to expect people to “not speak ill of the dead.” For those of us who lived through abuse, silence felt like another form of erasure. Some people simply aren’t worth eulogizing politely.

 

Double Standards

 

What disgusts me most is the political theater surrounding his death. Government assets were used to transport his body. Flags lowered to half-mast by presidential order. National figures treating him as though he were a statesman, when in reality his “service” was peddling a white Christian nationalist message that divided more than half this country.

 

And yet, even as I found his rhetoric repulsive, I cannot condone the ultimate silencing. Free speech matters. It’s foundational. But here’s the thing they drilled into me as a kid: with rights come responsibilities. Say what you want, but don’t expect freedom from consequences.

 

Speaking of the Dead, Speaking for the Living

 

People are free to deify him or despise him. Both stances are valid. What isn’t valid is trying to gatekeep the emotions of others — or using political power to silence opposing voices.

 

As always, my dog and my mom understood the importance of free speech better than most pundits ever will.