I remember it.
One of my grade-school classmates came running out onto the playground crying and relayed the news, our President was dead.
That's when it started for me, the growing realisation over time that politics in the United States of America is most definitely a blood sport and if you fuck with the wrong people, life gets interesting thereafter.
In a lot of ways, I'm not happy that there isn't a damn thing I can do on the macro scale as an individual but, on my own personal micro scale, I have allies.
We face doom as a nation, too many shitstains on the underwear of the universe who have their grubby hands on the levers of power are doing their level best to drive our whole experiment into some kind of implosion. Failing that, the object is an explosion of ugliness and then revel in laughter when it all devolves into nothingness.
Damn, sometimes I envy my grandpa. He's long gone and doesn't have to watch this mayhem.....
