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despite all of my dread and foreboding for the trudge through the darkness, early this morning, here i sit again... home and dry. this is not to say that the situation was less than unsettling, at least. thanks to Ally, the nagging urge to type in the "dark and stormy night" damnation is strong... well, there it is, anyway. a time when darkness assaulted the eyes. slickened streets resembled obsidian, sending sharp lasers of reflection like a dagger to the retina. tiny barnacles of ice clung to the bonnet like the inverted hull of a centuries-old scow. and then... fog. like ghost armies marching across the highway as i passed through the old battlefields, the view through the windscreen was punctuated by phantom tracers of snow... incoming rounds without impact. i kept recalling my Grandmother's many fanciful expressions... the one about the "devil beating his wife," whenever the sun shone in a rainstorm. i could scarcely imagine what the epithet for snow-and-fog would be. another gripping ride, successful in the fact that i was alert far past the witching hour, straining to see past the twenty foot bubble that preceded me. and the fucker didn't break, either. no fretful hikes on the shoulder of the road in the piercing cold. angst wasted, gratefully. among the many vignettes that passed through my cranium involved the inevitable witch hunt that Bible-thumpers and the FCC (in the guise of CottonMather/MichaelPowell) will be waging to "heal" the wages of sin that befoul our airwaves... and the hipocracy of it all. that whole Janet-thing, spotlighted between willie-grabbing and limp dick advertisements. and the latter underscores the whole deal. if an alien were to be judging the opposition, by monitoring the cathode-ray emissions, the impression must be of a nation of impotence... so much attention given the flaccid mindset. and the plan of attack, well underway. what a bullshit nation. always saying one thing, and doing the other... like no one else notices. assuming everyone is either too dazzled by the pretty pictures, the stirring in the pants, or so brain-dead that the intention is obscured. and now, they preach prohibition. well, that didn't work so well in the twenties... imagine the Mob that will rise up to satisfy that craving. it's sure working in reverse, for me... since i've been craving the comedy of BillHicks/GeorgeCarlin/MitchHedberg. holier-than-thou fuckers. beware the "reformed". |
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