Friday, September 26, 2008

Self-Preservation And The Great Coffin Shake: You've Got No One To Blame (But Yourselves)

It is, both, sad and embarrassing how fucked up the kids of the hippie generation have turned out to be; raised to blame the president for all of it, while wrecking havoc themselves. Politically dumb as a rock about everything but a mirror. Deaf and blind to criticism, or historical significance, there's a distinct possibility they'll be the end of our world, ushering in an age where they themselves will have to answer to the ruthless masters they'd hoped their childish antics would have allowed them to be.

The ultimate slaves to the rhythm, half a man (or woman) with no arms, destined to be cuffed about the head forever because they never did anything to prepare for stopping it. Or, more importantly, because they invited it, like a smoker determined to die. The bastards. I know, I know: as a foster child, I shouldn't call them that. They have no idea what or why they're doing what they're doing. The metaphysically ignorant fools. Right now they're making me cry.

They dream of Sarah Palin. Applaud fake Sarah Palins. They have no idea what to do with the real Sarah Palin. And it just doesn't register. They might as well be interviewing themselves. But that would be stupid because the "smart" ones end up saying humiliating things like:

"Back when I was a mystic, devoutly religious Wiccan priestess, alt-med, tarot-card-reading person, I lived with a constant background radiation of fear."
Convinced conservatives share their twisted outlook. The same conservatives they don't understand. The only people can save them from their backwards intentions. Only intimate with them pushing away.

No sense of touch. No sense of smell. Picking up dust just from crossing a room. Liberals today are just fucking worthless.

I'm their new Santa Claus, now carrying a gun.

And carrying it for my own fucking good.