I was only half-joking when I said I hoped we didn’t have to walk home from LA after setting off on a trip to the Southwest around the date Project 2025 called for the felon in chief to declare martial law. Our trip back turned out to be almost that bad, though, and I’m just glad I had “Parable of the Sower” to distract me. Things could be worse than an eight-hour delay just 18 minutes from Newark — no one was eating bodies on the runway, after all. But I’m so old I remember every airline once would provide two meals and a snack on a nonstop from LA to NYC (or EWR). In the year of our hell 2025, United passed out one .75-ounce snack packet and a (nonalcoholic) drink and then, only after we had sat on the tarmac for two hours, a packet of Biscoffs. And the Allentown airport was clearly not prepared for all the diverted business: the vending machines didn’t work. Could have been worse, though: Even first-class passengers couldn’t get extra food or drinks cuz shareholders must drink blood cuz we are living in cataclysm capitalism. Trust me: It was not just air traffic controllers who needed trauma leave after that radar outage. “Doged” is the new “fucked.”