Asinine

I've tried to think of it in several different ways, but in the end the only words I can think of are "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Did you post that comment and then go off and chortle about what a bitch you are. Are your friends proud of you and pat you on the back? Have you emailed people who've never seen my blog before to show them how asinine and sophomoric your humor can be. I want to be sure that the agility of your wit won't be over looked, so I'm reposting your comments.

Van der Graan Generator

Man-Erg

The killer lives inside me: yes, I can feel him move.
Sometimes he's lightly sleeping
in the quiet of his room,
but then his eyes will rise and stare through mine;
he'll speak my words and slice my mind inside.
Yes the killer lives.
Angels live inside me: I can feel them smile...
Their presence strokes
and soothes the tempest in my mind
and their love can heal the wounds
that I have wrought.
They watch me as I go to fall
- well, I know I shall be caught,
while the angels live.

How can I be free?
How can I get help?
Am I really me?
Am I someone else?

But stalking in my cloisters hang the acolytes
of gloom
and Death's Head throws his cloak into
the corner of my room
and I am doomed...
But laughing in my courtyard play the pranksters
of my youth
and solemn, waiting Old Man
in the gables of the roof:
he tells me truth...

And I too, live inside me and very often
don't know who I am:
I know I'm not a hero, but
I hope that I'll not die.
I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
are all me:
Dictator, saviour, refugee in war and peace
as long as Man lives...

I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
are all me:
Dictator, saviour, refugee

Saturday, March 25, 2006 2:52:56 AM

Hopefully, you won't leave it at this, because this has always been a kind of fantasy of mine. I'd like to hear your reasoning behind your post. How have you come to the conclusion that its all in my head? Before you post your reply, and I don't think you will, I'll share something with you. You, and people like you are the only proof that any of the words in your second post are true. If the world were only made up of people like you then it would be easy to believe that life is the hallow, sickening agony that your song describes. So you've been able to scrape enough wit to come to that conclusion and now you should take the second step. The more people like you stop being so hopelessly shallow and full of themselves the less chaotic and desperate life will seem for everyone involved. Yes, clever girl, life seems illusory and bogus. It doesn't have to be that way, and we don't have to wait another generation for things to change. They can change right now. You start. Life isn't a work of art that we stand back and admire, or search for meaning. Life is an action like walking to the store. The meaning of life comes from what you do while you're walking. I know it sounds like another of my desperate delusions, but its far from an original thought, although one that you don't seem to have come across yet. You're welcome.

I look forward to hearing from you again.