Greetings, bookish friends! I am incandescent with rage and grief today. I often am. I am going to be bleak here for a moment, and admit to you that I am not an optimist. I do not believe that we can build a better world, a just world—not in my lifetime or my niblings’ lifetimes or their children’s lifetimes. I wish I did. I do not.
Thank you for expressing your rage. I feel a little crazed- coming full circle to how I felt before 1973.