Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Mind Scribbles


Why Wall Street always wins:

Pleasing herself, little Suzy brought the last slice of cake to her sister - though having had none herself. No one told her to, no one taught her to. She just did it because she wanted to, a natural human instinct.

Suzy's mother, however, was livid to the raging core.

"You little Commie brat! Don't you EVER give food without getting something in return! Next thing you know everyone will be sharing everything and the whole world will go to hell! I’m teaching you human nature if it's the last thing I do and I will NOT let you destroy Western civilization - and that's that, young lady!"

And on that day Suzy learned what it means to be responsible.


------------

"Is that Your answer, Old Man? I guess You're a hard case, too."

------------



You think mandatory metal detectors in schools are a good idea? You think a bill to hinder global warming is a good idea? You think passing a law against putting babies in microwaves is a good idea? I got news for ya folks: if you’re so fucked up to gotta pass a law for it, then it's too late already.


---------------

"Hooper, you idiot!"

--------------



Sydney Carton sacrificed his life for a woman: "It's a far, far better thing I do, than I have ever done." Bullshit, you can’t buy you’re way into Heaven. What a fucking a loser. When this guy gets to Heaven God's gonna boot his ass back down here and show him the true meaning of sacrifice: "Learn how to make a marriage work. You're not getting off that easy, pal!"


--------------

"You never ease off on somebody like that... not when there's money involved."

--------------



They called her the Ward Lord in our pit of pain, pills were her bullets and prescriptions her chains. We feared her guillotine guidance and voracious vision, droning her drugged domain. "It's good to be God," she whispered in a conspiracy of one.

But I broke into the store house and found the thousands of vats overflowing with every kind of pill imaginable. Every shape and color were of the factory design. Factories make things "official", "unquestionable". These pellets to paradise were like carved wooden idols of old: they meant nothing but were made to mean everything.

But no matter the size or shape, all the pills were the same - they just wanted us to think each unique. For the Ward Lord mandated from her throne injection of the poppy pills and when done, dutiful patients danced on the wires of marionette puppets, learning to be good boys and girls, just as the Ward Lord intended. But never as God intended.


-----------------

"Life all comes down to a few moments, this is one of them."

-----------------



I remember driving through Austin and I saw these high rise condos where UT students stayed, places I'd have problems even paying the property taxes on. And I thought how those kids there never touch the earth. I can't even imagine what their conversations would be about. Now, I'm not judging or condemning here. I wish that fate for everyone. And I'm certainly sure some were suffering because they were expected to be there but really had no idea what to do with their lives. It still really is all about plastics for many.

But then I saw other students on their bikes, hungry for their education, focused on what they wanted, all the while serving food to the rich students. Their goals weren't just monetary or prestigious titles or living up to the family name - just to make something of themselves. Some of the rich kids had that same eagerness in their eyes too, but it was rare. It's better to have an identity than money.


-----------------

"Would you leave it!"

-----------------



The Artiste, the Wannabe and the Stoner.

"Hey, dude, you’re naked!" giggled Stoner Guy.

The nude, much pretentious Artiste was dismissive: "You mental midget. Your problem is you're incapable of grasping the deeper meaning of what you see."

"Whatever, man! All I know is I can see your wanker hanging down."

"I seek to convey an idea far beyond your depth. It concerns the intellectual dishonesty of clothing. We are all naked underneath. I am revealing that inner truth, shattering the pretense and thusly spreading enlightenment to the masses. A Nazi out of his uniform is merely a flabby white man with a pot belly."

"Oh, I get!" exclaimed Wannabe. "That’s brilliant! I want to spread enlightenment too!"

Later, Stoner Guy got a phone call from the police station as his two nude cohorts asked to be bailed out from the "fascist, narrow-minded, conformist police cretins". Stoner Guy never did find the station - which was OK by him because he was afraid to go there anyway with a roach in his ashtray (no, it didn't occur to him to throw it out!). Afterwards, a movie executive called wanting to do a cinematic version of the trio's story, which later became an art house smash.


-----------------

"Man...ancient race"





No comments: