There's A Lot To Think, That Hasn't Been Thunked.
2001-05-12 - 10:06 p.m.
(The Sirs, continued from...last time.)
Sir#1: I think...that I have nothing. If I have nothing, I am nothing. I could burn everything I own, and it wouldn't make a difference.
Sir#2: What about the box?
Sir#1: What box?
Sir#2: The box of AD+D stuff in the attic. All those little campaigns, storylines, characters? Don't you remember?
Sir#1: It's all trash. I spent a good five years of my life tied up in that box.
Sir#2: A good five years sounds better than no five years. But, regardless...you have your head. That's more than a person needs already. Some people don't even seem to have that.
Sir#1: Whatever...I mean, nothing fits. My friends aren't who they used to be...they don't seem like�
Sir#2: All change, in thoughts, as well as things...Snyder.
Sir#1: I am aware.
Sir#2: I�m sorry...you know, everyone has problems with invisibility. You�ll get used to it...
Narrator: And so passes another long pause, apathetic and thoughtless, before Sir#1 packs himself up and leaves the chair, alone in the middle of the dark.
I got some randum obnoxious e-mail tonight. And the world was beautiful again.
There are some scholars that truly believe that we live in a �postmodern� age. That there is nothing new under the sun, humanity as we knew it has ceased to exist (again), and the world is doomed to be a project stamped with a red-ink mark: �FAILED�. Well, I just can�t allow myself to agree. As a race of sapiens, we are just reaching adolescence...we have yet to comprehend the full extent of why we are here, and to some extent, it doesn�t matter. We are what we will be. But to say that everything is over, to say that history is history and that the future will not come...that, my friend, is ignorance. It�s a �long hard road outta hell� (TM). And if anarchy has become �cool�, I�m just waiting for someone to exploit that fact. The Black Flags and RtMark vs the Corps. Center stage. No, the world is just taking a nap before the storm settles in.
They says there are no names in Utopia. I just don�t see how this could be, but that�s what they says. They says people don�t need names, because they serve no function. That�s like putting the letter �I� back in �cooperation�. They says that it�s the capitalists that have put it in your heads, that every little garage band, and every product, and every toy, and every child, and every fantasy...has to have it�s own individual pronunciation. A man is not John, or Fred, or Tarzan, or any of the other stoopid countless things we like to call ourselves. He just is.
Primitive Mind: You have no names in your society? Whatever do you call someone when you need to get their attention?
Utopian Mind: Umm...how you say...�friend�.
First of most (which implies that this is the beginning of something, and it may very wel not be), I must say that Step-sister has no real idea how many siblings she has. Her father isn�t the most honest man in the area of his former relationships, and a few years ago she found out that she has another half-sister living out west sumplace. Thus, I was only slightly surprised by the idea that she�s a twin. Like, there was, at one point, the potential to have two of Step-sister. Can you imagine. You go on living life, and then one day, someone tells you that you were born with someone else. Shared the very act of becoming �alive� with another person. And that other person was dead instantly. Maybe they just couldn�t handle the world, in all of it�s insane beauty. And you are alive, and you escaped the jaws. Twins. And no one ever told you.
