… So I said, “If money and power are supposed to make you attractive, why is Elon still pasty white with the physique of a deflating soufflé? I’d rather have sex with Trump. But seriously, why is he shaped like that?”
I know I said I was taking a break from politics but …
Lately, I’ve gotten the sense that Elon thinks you can run a country like you run a business. Businesses discard people all the time. I wonder what Martin Eberhard and Marc Tarpenning are doing now. I am annoyed because wealth and authority create the illusion of competence, and people keep falling for it. It feels like a throw-out-the-baby-with-the-bathwater mentality, where everything is discarded in the name of progress/results—even what actually works.
Elon Musk didn’t invent rockets, electric cars, or online payment shit. Businesses aren’t inventions; products are. His true talent is in being a visionary, a marketer, and a risk-taker. His biggest skill is recognizing where technology is heading and investing in the right people to build it. For that, he deserves credit. But Google would have you think he’s the greatest inventor of all time. I see him more as a venture capitalist than anything else.
By Executive Order
The official language of the USA is …
Ameriglish.
Can you dig it!
Elon Musk is a walking case study of the Peter Principle. Being a successful VC doesn’t make you a good government advisor, policymaker, or, for that matter, a decent human being. Governments are supposed to serve the people. Many would argue that the current administration is doing just that, and they would not be wrong.
You can’t lay off democracy and human decency. Well … that’s not true. Obviously, you can; it’s happening right now. You get what you vote for and pay for.
Anyhow, what do I know? I’m just a broke black woman standing in line at the embassy, hoping someone with dead eyes and a rubber stamp sees my humanity. Which brings us to …
Hey! Who said that?
Since it’s the last day of BHM, we, you and I, will take a break from philosophy. Those are the only hints you’re getting. Ready or not, here the quote comes …
She watched the visa interviewer behind the glass screen,
Name the book or short story and Author
the way her limp auburn hair grazed the folded neck,
the way green eyes peered at her papers above silver frames
as though the glasses were unnecessary.
Can you go through your story again, ma’am? Y
ou haven’t given me any details,”
the visa interviewer said with an encouraging smile …
Her son had been killed, that was all she would say. Killed.
Nothing about how his laughter started somehow
above his head, high and tinkly.
How he called sweets and biscuits “breadie-breadie.”
How he grasped her neck tight when she held him.
How her husband said that he would be an artist
because he didn’t try to build with his LEGO blocks
but instead he arranged them, side by side, alternating colors.
They did not deserve to know.
My life shit
This week was satisfying. I enjoy helping customers; I’m a sucker for a “thank you.” They make me beam from ear to ear. I’d like to return to professional services and work on transformative projects; I enjoy working with clients, unless they offend my nostrils.
Is peeing yourself a requirement for being homeless? And on second thought, maybe pasty white is attractive after all; look at those K-pop groups.
I’m restarting my IG posts this Sunday, and I have a plan for posting all my work, not only poetry. Because I’m not just a poet.
And finally, the beautiful pictures peppered throughout, and the feature photo, my favourite, are from Toni Kuyinu. My head is always cloudy, which is the same as having your head in the clouds, yes. They were in the lobby of a building I walk through on my way to the office.
Fri Feb 28
© 2025 Samantha Williams. All Rights Reserved.
