Saturday, June 7, 2008


What do I want out of life? Well, I suppose I want the same simple things we all do, like being able to wear a tri-corner hat with confidence; or knowing how to speak fluent Farsi despite never being called upon to do so; or being the first person to come up with a practical yet still entertaining use for the foaming reaction of vinegar and baking soda. Perhaps even more basic things, sexing geese just by the smell and all that. It's a shame that contemporary life doesn't afford us the time to pursue these basic human desires. We find ourselves forced into the drudgery of polishing doorknobs for a crust, when what we really want to do is open that little shop we've always dreamed of, the one where we use a set of custom made cobbler's tools to turn two right shoes into a pair.

In frustration, we shake our fists at the sky and —startlingly enough— the sky shakes its fists back at us. Who knew the sky had dirty thumbnails? What on earth could it get into up there? We have to admire that the sky at least knows enough about making a fist to not tuck the thumb inside, but it doesn't dull the pain of discovering one more hopeless mystery. And so we lower our fists and eyes, resting both on those dirty streets, the ones so tackily picked out with shards of lapis lazuli and crushed garnet. Our knuckles are pricked, our corneas are scratched, and the distant rolling thunder is just the sky chuckling to itself at our predicament. Truly, we are the damned, doomed to an eternity of frosty chocolate milkshakes and shattered expectations.

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