Dear Wigleaf,

I always hated how ugly this country is. I hated the highways and their cars and the no-where-ness and all the space that we stole and to what end? What have we done with it? Motels and gas stations and Golden Corrals my ass. Land Back? We'd be so lucky to get rid of it.

Of course there are the beautiful parts. There is the very cusp of Lake Superior. There is a meadow in Idaho whose location I will not share. But it's stitched through with ugliness, like we can't help ourselves, like we don't know the difference.

Recently, I've been putting the hate in glass jars and labelling it so I don't lose track. I resolved to not let it ruin me. I resolved to find a use for it, one day. I want you to help me. That's why I'm writing.

The asphalt is holy. The pesticide is holy. The fucking Golden Corral is holy. Can you believe that? Whose idea was that?

Love,

RJH