Crazy Is a Preexisting Condition

Rick Perlstein wrote a wonderful article for last Sunday’s Washington Post about all the crazy motherfuckers getting airtime lately and it should be read by everyone:

So, crazier then, or crazier now?  Actually, the similarities across decades are uncanny.  When Adlai Stevenson spoke at a 1963 United Nations Day observance in Dallas, the Indignation forces thronged the hall, sweating and furious, shrieking down the speaker for the television cameras.  Then, when Stevenson was walked to his limousine, a grimacing and wild-eyed lady thwacked him with a picket sign.  Stevenson was baffled.  “What’s the matter, madam?” he asked.  “What can I do for you?”  The woman responded with self-righteous fury: “Well, if you don’t know I can’t help you.”

About

Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

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