These times are nothing if not uncertain. No one seems to know where they're going, what they want, who they are. We're perpetually trying to "figure ourselves out", often at the expense of the few things we do have going for us.
Baby Boomers. Generation X. Millennials.
We've had several generations to get it right, but all we do is add more things in hopes they'll be "the right thing" for us. This has spurned what a failed english major would call a "Lovecraftian" madness that has spanned the end of the 20th century and fully infiltrated this new millennium.
We haven't changed... we've mutated. The same thing, but with badder skin, thicker vocal cords, extra tentacles, and brains we've treated as hernias for so long that they've become as such. Sprained-Muscle Minds in the Bodies of Humanoid Squid-Dogs, frothing ink from spore-like mandibles neglected of dentistry, chastising the poor and hungry with one side of our body while banks and governments and corporations rob and rape the other side. But at least we're "doing our part". We're a part of society and we're proud.
Shut the fuck up.
We're just prags. We're battered wives, eager to forgive the assailants and ready to blame ourselves for they're inability to control themselves or treat people with grace and decency.
"They don't know any better".
that little catchphrase has let the hollow retards and the sick idiots take over. We laid down for this ill-tempered mongoloids for too long and we're paying the price for giving blissful stupidity and near-violent anti-intellectualism a pass. Where once anyone with a capacity for abstract thought was considered a unique revolutionary, their observations and ideas are now written off as drug induced blather. We can't handle anything that isn't sub-simplistic, unless we're under the influence of something.... and even then it's only considered "trippy".
fuck it. drive drunk and jerk off while doing it. vomit on your crotch to make it seem like she's in the room with you. She can be anyone... from a Porn Star to a Vice Presidential Candidate (as i understand it, the only difference nowadays is where they stand on abortion or guns). Crash into a group home for blind orphans and headbutt your way through their numbers. Then smash your bottle of booze on the floor and scream "CANDY!!!!" and watch the goofy bastards paw at the shards. Take off your shoes and sock-skate across their thin blood as it stains the off-white linoleum into a prom-night pink, throat-singing your way through "Crazy for You" by Madonna. Melt your genitals on a rib-cage shaped radiator while giving a mother sow the show-stopper. Kill yourself or Just Fucking Kill.
Just needed to share.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
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