For Crying Out Loud
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What is the state of the human condition?
(or... some random thoughts that filled up space in a zine that got sold to some people in Pensacola for a dollar)

Why are the margins on typed pages so large? Is it because of our need to waste paper? Is it a warning sign of dwindling attention spans? Why do we think it looks better to have a page of text surrounded by a desolate white zone where nothing exists. When we're young, it's an area for doodling pictures and notes, but when we get older it becomes a untouchable thing. Whenever I go to print something or type anything, I have to readjust the margins so I can fit more words on less paper. But I can't help but feel like I'm going against some social standard in doing so.

fancy water blue glass bottle,
fancy chain and neck to throttle,
fancy mustard's brown and lumpy,
fancy roads that aren't so bumpy,
fancy coffee tiny cup,
fancy ice cream lick it up,
fancy shampoo silky hair,
fancy shirts and underwear,
fancy cars with phones inside,
fancy shoes of bovine hide,
fancy homes with swimming pools,
fancy churches - fancy schools,
fancy treats are just for munchin',
first class seating business luncheon,
fancy pets that mop the floor,
fancy remote controlled door,
fancy smokes without the flavor,
fancy breath mint - no life saver,
fancy beer in crystal cup,
fancy wine - drink it up,
fancy chair with vibro-seat,
fancy bracelets for your feet,
fancy restaurants go-go-go
who's waiters look like 3-P-O,
fancy this and fancy that,
eat it up and get real fat.

As if the fact that you can afford the more expensive brand makes you above the lower class. Untouchable by the filthy people that drink from faucets and brew Uban in their kitchens at home while spreading French's yellow mustard on wheat bread.. As if buying something that originated in another country makes you well traveled or if you are assured that other creatures have suffered so you can sip something hot makes you a part of royalty. Always, always drink with your pinky out. Sure, it looks stupid, but it's the kind of ritual we need to keep the classes separated.

Whatever happened to the class-war? I can't say that I miss it; it's just squabbling from both sides of the economic plane that fail to see the similarity in their attitudes. What's the difference between the rich frowning on the poor and the poor shaking a fist at the wealthy? Not much. Maybe there's a chance that the poor are just jealous of people with money, saddened by the fact that it's difficult to satisfy overwhelming entertainment desires as well as earn a savings in some boring job. It takes little interest to make money. The most boring people have it easy since they don't really feel the need to be constantly amused, and the exact contraption of their actions doesn't contract detached attractions or get distracted by retracted abstract extractions. That's just a fraction of the problem.

How dominant is the "fuck-it" attitude? When I see people with lots of tattoos I have to wonder if at one time they just said "fuck it!" and decided to make those permanent changes to their appearance. I think this attitude can be a good one, but I also think that often times it's taken a step further into the interactions with other people. When a person decides that the feelings of others are far less significant than their own. Where life is a self-serving, self-satisfying, inconsiderate game of making other people give and sacrifice without offering anything in return. When the chips are down, "fuck it" and scatter the pieces across the room. When you realize there's a 40% chance you might fail, just give up. Who cares what the consequences are? When you realize you stand a chance of succeeding at the expense of others, just say "fuck them" and make yourself happy. Steal from the poor so you can buy a steak at that expensive restaurant. Even though the same amount of cash could have fed your victim for a month. Oh well, fuck it. It's easy to wash your hands, especially when they're covered with guilt. It's easy to wash the stains off your soul when you're a shallow person. It takes a ton of misery to provide an ounce of joy for some people, but that's just the way it is, right? That's "life" after all. After all... After all, we all die. We all die poor, alone, scared. Sure it's not fair. But that's life. You can be a jerk your whole life, then pull your mortal eject lever and you're untouchable. Your enemies can drag your carcass through the streets for days spitting and stabbing it, but you're not home anymore. So fuck it. Your guaranteed the last laugh no matter what. Too bad that's not really true. Have you ever secretly done something mean and in your head you start practicing what you'll say on the witness stand when it goes to court? That'll never happen. I know it, you know it, but still it's something I think lots of people do as a matter of reflex. It's the secret evil we all possess that occasionally speaks up above the voice or reason. Before we know it, we're saying "fuck it" and taking action against logic and compassion then people get hurt, but it doesn't matter anymore. That same evil is like a jealous lover and the sight of another's evil is the enemy. Which is stronger? The most cruel will prevail and the dim of wit will reign supreme. Long live Barbara Streisand.

Skeptical eyes of disapproval stare down straight noses of disbelief toward crooked rascals with seemingly wicked ways. The poor are made to suffer because pain is the structure of god and suffering the foundation of heaven. Fear is the shield and hate becomes a sword to divide non-believers from their halves. Babies are born into evil. Split them in two and release the demons. Grind them into dust and sell them as baby powder. "Made with 100% real babies" the label should read. "So soft, so soft, so soft..."