I should clarify

I’m personally not keen for the armed overthrow option—for one thing, when the oppressed masses rise up with their pitchforks and flaming brands, my protests that I was rooting for their side all along may not be audible over the din—but given an increasingly obdurate and rapacious plutocracy prepared to subvert the institutions to their ends and, where subversion fails, to go full fascist…even given a happy outcome this year, even, heaven help us, should the Senate flip, I fear that we’re looking at no more than a respite, a short-term palliative measure. And if we don’t get the breaks, I think we’re looking, best case, at something like the “chaotic devolution” the USSR endured a generation ago; worse case…Bosnia on a continental scale.

gloomily,

(As is often the case) I join you in the ..What!? .. kaleidoscopic hologram of possible local-World-next? … as an overview [.each .day] of the incessant pukka selected-madness: engulfs all the meeja + mouth-noises of the millions of perps -vs- anti-perps. (But concision escapes modeling the magnitude of our Clusterfuck)

I see/feel no chance that extrapolation-FROM within-chaos is anything but ... [cf. a quip mentioned past] by Lord Peter Wimsey within his long-running PBS mystery-series; specifically the episode, Murder must Advertise. The ad-jingle ends with phrase … “flat, stale and unprofitable”. The FIX *IS* {already} IN. Since I do take seriously the constellation of consequences from: “When.. actually seen to be fait accompli", that, Language has been murdered pre meditatively” aka, by successful Design—as was crafted by ∑-IT/now-automated processes.

Eloquence/ thus, becomes tossed-into-the stinking sound-barrel with the (new! personally-crafted) small-group precision-of-targeting, of the surgeon’s scalpel: within the ‘operating theatres’ all about—these crafted by the Top-Greediest æries of purest $$$-malevolence, as any one of us Can imagine. Confucius WAS dead-Right in his brief reply to the query, “Why should language be correct?” as he ticked-off the ineluctable horrors as would ensue if we allowed Language-itself to be subverted (into doggerel.. any pissant synonym will do).

If we are not There? … then there’s no There there! (that smarmy dismissal of Oakland CA by denizens of the smugly pretentious-SF ‘Paris of the West’).
Only purest-LUCK (a god worthy of our offering daily pæns toward) might alter the trigonometry of the said ‘ineluctable horrors’, I wot.

So then, PUNK: are ya feelin Lucky?
[did I fire five .. six?! shots from the most powerful handgun] etc. Perhaps we'recollectively that *character from long-vanished Smokey Stover© comic, Mr. Mxtyplk (?sp)
* the character had a perpetual rain-cloud-over-head (Mr. Gurdjieff hired! such-a-one to be contrarian/to keep-awake his students, via his incessant BS-in-the-mix).
er, Hmmm, has it even local applications?

tl;dr.. Yes there IS 'luck' but as you opine: only for an iffy-period of respite (within which ... some/too-many! wouldst lapse) into Unicorns and flying-cars
as They Shop even More. For 5000# 'cars' like it was 1971.

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