Consarn it all! I can hold it in no longer! Gimme some room. I got somethin' to say and I'm just fixin' to bust. Here goes:
Damn all those presidents and dictators and premiers and emirs and chancellors who force us to be pegs in their cosmic game of Battleship ("G7---I sunk your health coverage!"). I damn them for making me fear travel and fear my neighbors and fear food from China (whither the pu-pu platter?). I damn them for enticing religious radicals into using us as pawns in their own low rent, unimaginative board games ("Red rover, red rover, send the infidel over!").
I just wanna live! Is that so wrong?
I hate these fucks, with their secret agendas and insatiable thirsts to control all the energy and all the money and all the people. I loathe them for not being able to cope with inadequate genitalia. If I can, you can! Jesus, get over it!
It's strange to me how it's all come to this. It would be as if the affable owner of a general store where everyone in the neighborhood bought their goods and sundries, this guy who knew you by your first name and patted kids on the head and didn't crap a flat tire if you needed some credit, all of a sudden felt that it was utter anathema to have such a calling and shifted from avuncular to nucular overnight, charging exorbitant fees for bubble gum and isopropyl alcohol and taking it upon himself to torch the competing establishment a block away. And then somehow blame his customers for it.
I mean I get the primal imperative stuff, we're just animals and despite the power to reason we can never really shrug off the taint of tribalism and blah blah blah. But c'mon, guys! I didn't go to school and read and count and be mediocre in punchball just so I could grow up to be fodder, let alone fodder for some obscenely wealthy douchebag or despot who struggles minute to minute over whether to incinerate the population or not.
And why are all the assholes in charge? Why do they have all the guns and conscripted armies and get to go to summits and fund weapons research? How about developing a music gun? Or a fruit bomb? Drop some fucking fruit bombs on pissed off radicals and get 'em all hopped up on vitamin c and anti-oxidents or whatever the hell and just call it a day? And if the douchebags really want to they can wear crowns or sashes or tiny flag lapel pins if it makes 'em feel like big men.
But honestly, if it means so much to you then don't do all your presidentin' in our backyards. Do it in those colossal bedpans with corporate names called "stadiums" and let us buy tickets to see it. You can take the full gate, you'll get your type-a personality ya-yas out and bask in an overwhelming dose of attention from the chanting throngs. And then, at the end of three periods or four quarters or seven innings or 50,000 dead (whichever comes first) we can all return to our huts, satisfied that we have borne witness to our leaders at work.
But until then, whattaya say, fellas? Truce?