Living in fantasy

Everywhere you go on the web there is fantasy.

Unreality, disguised as its opposite.
Computer games where make believe tanks blow up others in a cartoon belch of fire.

Sexual fantasies fueled by man’s never-ending itch.

They all remind you of the best fantasy story ever told, Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland.

Alarmingly, fantasy away from the web is no less fantastic.

Sit in your car at the traffic lights.

When the light changes to green, there is often a boy (usually) racer who stands on his (male) accelerator and screams away. In his dream he is at Le Mans.

I sometimes hear traffic driving down the nearby Manchester Road. 

Sometimes I hear the thud thud thud of the base speakers. Again the driver is in a fantasy world. Is it Woodstock? Or the O2 Arena? Does it matter, as long as two fingers are stuck up at  social conventions.

But this is small beer.
In Washington DC President Trump is creating his own Wonderland.
Where a big wall is built to keep Mexican’s out.
And teachers are armed in case they get through.

Oh America!
Land of the assault rifle.

Aren’t you sad that you have as leader someone who can’t stop gazing through the looking glass?
Someone who when he uses a word chooses it to mean whatever he wants it to be?