Was an encounter I never thought I'd intersect voluntarily. And if I did, I would just let it go by like a shot of tequila. Undrunk.
I am a simple man. I like people whose intelligence stimulate me and I despise creatures of ignorance whose obtuseness baffle me. I won't explain. If you are one of the beings pertaining to the second part of the previous sentence, then you won't be reading this. If, however, you belong to the first part, then you must find this indulgent explanation offensive.
The reality is tougher then my imagination simply because my thoughts and dreams never sucker punch me. This sounds like a cheap prelude to an obituary. Perhaps it is. If not, it should become one.
Extremity angers me and often transforms me in what I despise. An angry man. A believer. The one I wanted to depart from. Seldom I find sorrow but when I do I seem to bathe in it. You?
Names are unimportant while making the front page news. I said before that reason is impervious to hope. Obama didn't represent a black dude from an immigrant father taking over the White House nor hope. He represented an intelligent being, an exponent of a changing mob who was willing, desiring to show their humanity instead of their instincts. For the being of reason, at least. Tonight I encountered the reiteration of the impossible love, unoccuring, between a deer and a wolf. I was neither, even though I could have easily shown my lion fangs.
I was drinking a scotch on a semi-obscure Hollywood street across from an idiotic church of scientology. As usual during this common ritual of mine, I was smoking. The cigarette brand was never a subject of my dissertations but the half full pack laying in front of my Mc… scotch glass echoed like a punching line: American Spirit! Additive-free.
What had happened tonight. This night. Any night. The other day.
Well, quite the ubiquitous. People colliding ferociously through beliefs. A repugnant field of matter that attracts the opposites into conflict.
On the sidewalk bordering my table, was a wooden telephone post stapled into oblivion. In Los Angeles, this represents the edifice of independent speaker wall of pedestrian fame.
In this illuminated dusk, the grassroots disciples were represented by a man and a woman in their early adulthood. Paid by an obscure conspiracy theorist, they stapled a few posters of Obama representing The Joker from the last Batman movie, The Dark Knight. I smirked beningly since Obama was funny looking with the Joker's make up and it seemed a cheap shot at re-portraying Obama as a blood sucker dictator-vampire character. Two black ladies from a table across from mine, at once, stood up and marched angrily to the pole and ripped the posters. I laughed vociferously knowing that this cocktail is going to overflow its highball. It's a blasphemy to put a White face on Obama, they shouted.
Exasperatingly, it's still about what group we belong to. The: what we believe in is much more important. Sunken in belief, the shore of humanity and reason is not sought out but splattered with the surroundings that drowns us. Unconceivable, the shore is the monstrous enemy. For way too many! We like it or not, we are creatures of apartheid.
We use the belief as a provider of common sense while is the mega antagonizer of our species and, we ostracize the reason which is the only truth, path and life toward a common sense.
The sadness is beautiful when the human behavior is easily graphed as a mathematical equation. After we assume through an absurd hypothesis the demonstration just to prove its ridiculousness, we find the logical answer.
With humans, it's the reverse. I shouldn't spell it but, ferociously, I do: the human behavior represents a ridiculous logic of the hyperbolic absurd. Amen!