Wednesday, February 18, 2009

He's Got Your Number

On opposite ends of the continuoum but standing in the same room these clods size each other up and down. They guardedly grip miscalculated digits but only one remains untouched by the other.


One clod retains the advantage of course. It only stands to reason. No two clods are exactly alike.


And, since it follows that each clod will fit differently into this most inflexible frame, one will fit more aptly.


Sadly, neither will understand which, how or why.

Also, nobody cares. And that's okay because that's the way it is.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Changing Wants

If I could just have a receding hairline to emphasize the swoosh of my greasy pompadour, strong forearms, and a pencil moustache I might be happy. That's a thought I'm pretty sure I had sometime just before my hormones kicked in. Probably like 1981.

Since that time I've come to understand rationally that nothing much actually matters in the long run. Of course this is no excuse to go about doing horrible things because when nothing really matters in the long run what matters most are the moments of the life you live. All you have to bargain with is what you put out-there. That is to say, if one wants to live in a world surrounded by pleasantness one's best effort to that end is to be pleasant. Spending the bulk of one's time screwing around and flipping people off will leave one with no right to complain about the lack of productivity and surplus of incivility in the world.

Of course even with the best of intentions we're only essentially animals. A good idea, I think, is to forgive other people their humanity even as they condemn you for yours. They'll call it weakness or some such drivel, but you'll know it as humanity if you give it just a moment's attention.

So in the end (of this pointless thought) I guess I embrace the idea that there are things more important than the self because the self is fleeting but we hope that the best of our society will not be. I say we with the assumption that you agree with me. And as with the assumption that these words mean something in any context to anyone I embrace it, intentionally ignoring the irony of the self-indulgence from which it was created.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Nothing Will Ever be the Same Again

Of course that's just a silly semantical trick. Once anything is it cannot be as it was again because when it was partially defines what it was. Right? But since I'm no guru, and you're not seeking enlightenment anyway, this episode is best forgotten. Please move on to the illustrations.

old damned man

This is an old man, daft with power. He holds authority over all the government issued number two pencils and is not afraid to give you a very very dull one if you displease him. This is not a work of my imagination, but rather, it is TRUTH!! (The capital letters and exclamation points signify emphasis AND sincerity.)

This picture represents my relationship to my cellular telephone as well as the physical discomfort I feel in my stomach when I recall being spanked in public as a child.
This is supposed to be Carl Rove, but unfortunately does not look enough like a pig. (Carl Rove looks like a pig, and not at all like Morton Downey Jr.)
I often imagine people casually pointing at major disasters. For instance, this person is pointing out that everyone in the theater (he's in a 500 seat theater) is gushing blood from their faces.


This is the most recent example of ugly-monster-face.