I needed a mission, a purpose in this land of the living, and due to my insanity, I was given one.

Indeed. Rum Brain Moe supplied me with some of the good stuff—medicine that can’t be bought at the pharmacist—and off I went into the land of the dead.

I wandered through the darkness searching for answers. In this lifeless state I shared a Lucky Strike with Caesar, played chess with Churchill, and danced with Audrey Hepburn. Good times, but fruitless in my pursuit of truth in this modern age.

My voyage into the underworld seemed to be nothing more than a joyride, a tourist enjoying the best of a world lost to time. That was until I stumbled across Jack’s son. Yes, Kennedy’s boy was standing there, saluting the void, eyes absent of anything but sorrow. I stood with him, discussing the world that he had left, and he informed me he had no plans of returning.

“Jesus isn’t coming back, and neither am I,” he told me as his father cruised by on a sinking PT boat with Marilyn Monroe by his side.

Heavy stuff. Yet, I couldn’t help but inform him that this would hit the QAnon crowd in an ugly way. He didn’t understand the concept of the organization, and I didn’t have the heart to explain that vicious element of the modern political situation.

Upon my return, Moe made sure I didn’t slip back into the dark. It’s something that can happen, if one lacks the grit to keep their eyes open. Thankfully, I’ve got plenty of grit—at least, that’s what I tell myself each time I stare into the mirror to find the passage of time growing greater across the lines of my face.

So, Junior’s not coming back. Apologies to any readers who subscribe to the ideology of QAnon, but should any of you really be surprised? After all, none of the prophecies have really come to life, have they?

The Tyrant hasn’t returned to the Oval Office in some majestic coup, the country isn’t being devoured by liberal cannibals, and really, we just seem to be seeing more of the same—America’s lumbering political system, taking its time to get anything done.

Of course, these are the words of a cynic. The optimists out there will say that life in President Biden’s America is far better than what we faced during the last administration, and they would certainly be right. However, there are still plenty of unnecessary evils that this country maintains—overcrowded prisons, racism and violence in our police, and the burden of college debt. Those of us who still maintain some form of sanity might be able to outsmart the shamans of the bizarre Q on a day-to-day basis, but we have yet to discover a way to remove the need for that type of dangerous insanity.

Perhaps another trip into the void will allow me the chance to find an answer to that problem, but for the time being, Moe is keeping a close eye on me, telling me my vitals aren’t quite where they should be for a second run.

Patience, readers. That is certainly the key.