Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Spit Like You Mean It




Masses revolt elsewhere. Here it's the usual surrender and obedience. Fine by me. Given what's inside numerous Americans, especially those who are armed, I happily accept their acquiescence. I won't get pissed when they suddenly turn without signaling into a fast food lot. I won't hold them in contempt as they sleepwalk through stores. Keep eating. Stay asleep. This is your life. Enjoy it.

She's younger, her devious smile telling lies before she speaks. He loves that. Silent lies. What he deserves for chasing her. There's no future between them. No present, either. Only his past and her boredom. He's too old to take seriously, but he makes her laugh, shows tenderness in bed. She looks down on his tenderness, learned to fuck with arrogant boys in a hurry to finish. She equates softness with dying. He simply loves to touch her. Both are doomed, but her sentence is longer.

Listening to sports radio in a small dented car. Last refuge for angry white men. Sickening to hear, yet it beats driving to your own angry thoughts. These men feel cheated, and to a certain degree they are. They swallowed the fantasy long ago and insist that it eventually come true. But it won't and they know it. So they wallow in self-pity, spout clichés, repeat what smoother talkers have already said. They lack the talent to be their own bullshit artists. Perhaps the saddest fate of all.

There are worse things than despair to pass on to your kids. Insanity is bad, cruelty the deadliest curse. Stupidity is the most democratic trait, making mixing easier as you age. Happiness is a lucky shot over your shoulder using a mirror. Contentment is the killer who gets away with it, evidence burned, fingerprints wiped. Despair is a form of love, kicked around but rarely broken. Despair makes you feel, lets you cry. Despair gives you room to breathe, which is more than most people get. Treat it as a gift and you might have a chance.

Every man should suck at least one dick in his life. Not to completion, unless that's desired. Just to experience the texture and taste. Think of the violence averted. Imagine the altered demeanors. Gone would be the dread and fear of fags. With every man a cocksucker, we might inch past our present barbarism. Plus, most straight women find it hot. Confess to sucking dick, and you'll have more pussy than you can handle.

Smashing typewriters with hammers once served as expression. Now it's passé, a relic of grittier days. Smash some iPhones and see who cares. Destruction is a yawn. Our time's nearly up.