Apologies to Generalissimo and Jack Kirby but we all don’t want or need to do the group of misfit people each with a super power or weird personality quirk but yet somehow needing one another and making things happen together…a la Agents of Shield, HYDRA, G.I.Joe/COBRA, to a lesser extent, and the others; Guardians of the Galaxy, and the others that Warren Ellis, Agents of Hate, Freak Angels, and the others, Alan Moore’s Watchmen, one woman, and the others…yeah, we don’t want them. We don’t need them. We just want a nice quiet neighborhood, an Andronico’s down the street, and, even if they DO charge 14 dollars for a head of lettuce, we’ll enter our battered late model Volvo, boxy but safe, trundle on down San Pablo Avenue, and get it. Patchouli stink wafting in the breeze behind…our home, a humble but well-appointed Craftsman, of course. Dark. Nice. Cool. Stickley furniture perhaps. We could be in Berkeley, Piedmont, Rockridge, Pasadena, San Marino, live on the hill in any ol’ Oak Tree strewn warm Californian enclave. Work over the hill in some Laboratory. Whatever. But we don’t want to be fucked with. We want our government to be run by competent people and we don’t want to be outraged by crises near or far. We just want to be left the fuck alone. To be in peace, in soul, sight, faith/beliveability. Sandals with socks. Hairy legs. Glasses. Craft Beers in the fridge. Neither conservative or liberal. Just, smart. Right. Done. Kids or no. Sex or no. We don’t have to parade our differences or be coddled our problems; fixations, quibbles, quibblies.