Author Topic: Dear Diary  (Read 351 times)

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Dear Diary
« on: July 07, 2014, 08:42:48 pm »
Dairy of a Madman

Dearest Abyss,

While out in public today, I caught myself spontaneously admiring my reflection in a tinted window ... tilting my head to one side, I was like, I know that undersized orangutan ... that's me, my best buddy.  I was saying out loud how much more I liked my reflection in this particular glass than in most mirrors ... I don't like my "human" face, but I do like my "ape" skull.  I liked that the beard was growing even longer.

 In a rather carefree manner I began speaking out loud to my reflection.  Then I noticed a trio of seniors walking in my direction.  I thought nothing of it as I was actually enjoying my own company (my reflection).  The male, evidently playing the role of patriarchal authority figure, said to me in a rather snide manner, "Talking to the bushes?"

What an ****.  Trying to ruin my fun.

My pleasant mood was immediately replaced with an urge to tell them that they were doomed, but I repressed the desire.  That's the problem with what I call Gortville (or Gortistan, as some like to call it): people think they can just make snide remarks and get away with it.  I was reminded of Thomas Ligotti's My Work Is Not Yet Done when the protagonist has an exchange with a banker:

    "May I ask why you've decided to close your account with us?" asked the gray-suited man to whom the teller had sent me.  He was sitting behind a desk in a corner of the great vaulted lobby of the bank.

    "Because I despise you," I replied, looking at him straight in the eye from behind amber-tinted eyeglasses.

    "I beg your pardon?"

    "I think you heard me.  This is a bank.  I'd rather carry my money around in my crotch than have it serve the purposes of this institution for another minute."

    The banker, somewhat petulantly, retrieved three forms from the top drawer of his desk and asked me to fill them out.  Two of the forms he kept.  The third he told me to take to the teller who had sent me to him.  "This is a waiver.  You understand that the bank can't be held responsible for cash withdrawals once you've taken possession of your funds.  Even while you're still on the bank's premises, our security guards will not be available for your protection."  As I rose to go back to the teller's window and have all my money loaded into the shoe box I had brought with me, the gray-suited man added, "We sincerely have enjoyed serving you and hope to do so again in the future."  It occurred to me that all civilization was structured so that such people could make snide remarks like that and get away with it.  They had been getting away with it for thousands of years and would continue to get away with it until the end of time. (p. 55-56).

And the gorts will continue to think they can make the madman feel awkward even though they are quite powerless to do so.
« Last Edit: July 07, 2014, 09:31:36 pm by H »
He [Arthur Schopenhauer] has been the most radical of all troublemakers. He was defiant. ~ (Marcuse?)

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