Saturday, July 24, 2010

dear brenda

I have often wondered what makes us do the things that we do, wondered how we process information and make judgment calls. How we work stringently within a system yet insist that we maintain free will and the capability to decide what is right and wrong. How do we learn to live in the world of lip service without cringing with shame? How do we learn to pull the trigger and not be accountable for a loss of life. How we learn to follow with vulgarian subtlety the incongruous phrase all animals are equal but some more equal than others. The kooks and gooks and weirdos and you know as I do that the list goes on and on as necessary. Whatever it takes to keep us in line. Whether we are fighting eurasia or oceana. If we don't adhere to the Principle? Why then, it's easy: just spin us in circles.

1 comment:

  1. I really do believe Brenda was compensating for a very, very small hermaphroditic dick. My dad speeds a lot, or he used to back in the day, and he was always driving some hot, rare car and was always let off the hook.

    Except for by the lady police officer. She wasn't going to hear any fluff about how he's just a silly old man in a fast car, she wasn't going to let her femininity get in the way of her job, in in the process, lost her humanity.

    Being tough doesn't mean being mean. I learned that from you, that kindness comes from strength. People who are mean to prove they are tough are just shells of people. Husks.