Here's another face that gives me the creeps, this killer of the Earth, Rex Tillerson.
Yesterday, I spent some time scrutinizing that hideous close-up photo of Steve Bannon's face. The words of Mike Malloy describing him as looking like he'd just come off a long booze binge played in my mind.
Last night, I had a terrifying dream: I was a young man. I was somehow absorbed into Bannon's inner circle. I had to pretend I was one of them, or they'd surely rip me to shreds. Everyone wore a uniform, and their faces all looked alike. Their expressions were dull and reptilian. I needed to go to the toilet. I was in a toilet stall and some of the men were looking over the top of the door, watching me try to defecate.
Then, I was outside, wandering away from the mass of uniformed men. There was war. I was on a dark road. I crouched in a ditch with my back against a hurricane fence and watched as truck-loads of soldiers moved down the road. I closed my eyes as each truck passed in case my eyeballs could be seen.
I woke up in somewhat of a panic, my heart racing. This is what was on my mind: Steve Bannon is a cannibal.
I was extremely thirsty and had a foul taste in my mouth.
It must have been the lentil soup I had at dinner.
Yeah. That's what it was.