You remember in high-school when you didn't have all that many friends, and, like, the system was oppressive, man, but you were sure you were destined for intellectual world domination yourself? You remember your diary entries? You know how you read them now and vow that no-one, but no-one, will ever be allowed to see them? Imagine if your little brother put them on the internet. Imagine if this happened to Hillary Clinton. Well, it has! Enough of this policy! Let's get serious. Some nasty bastard she used to write to in high-school has published her teenage letters. Hahahaha. “God, I feel so divorced from Park Ridge, parents, home, the entire unreality of middle class America,” she says. “This all sounds so predictable, but it’s true.” Oh us too, Hill-Dog. Us too. In fact, the more she speaks, the nearer she comes: “I’d play out in the patch of sunlight that broke the density of the elms in front of our house and pretend there were heavenly movie cameras watching my every move.” Now some people will mock, but those people will not be us. No sir.
And bejayzus, not so much with the God, huh? She asks herself to “define ‘happiness’ Hillary Rodham, acknowledged agnostic intellectual liberal, emotional conservative.”
Actually, that sounds ok.
And how about “Man is born to live, not prepare for life.” Yep, we like it.
“Can you be a misanthrope and still love or enjoy some individuals? How about a compassionate misanthrope?” Erm, we think so. And “Sunday was lethargic from the beginning as I wallowed in a morass of general and specific dislike and pity for most people but me especially." Dude, TOTALLY. In our world, every day is that day. If we could deal man, we'd vote for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment