(New scene in the continuing saga of “The Ole Man Gives The Kid Some Ad-vice”):
“Son, in the great ‘race-of-life’ you’ve got three choices: You can either help start the race, help judge its finish, drive one of the cars, or be a sponsor.” And the lad cried, “But Ole Man – that’s five choices.” And Pop replied, “So?”
Between midnight and morning, during a lull in the fighting, a general said to his bloodied aide, “The ever widening silence begins to speak to us all.”
And in this other place,
just before it’d get late,
it’d get R-E-A-L-L-L late.
The unusual thinking processes inherent in this kind of neural rebellion could be smilingly described as: science with no laws; religion with no beliefs; a game with no rules; a sport with no score; maps with no mileage or features; and a joke that is all punch line.
Down near the shopping mall, a gentleman stopped me, said he’d read The News, etc., but primarily wanted to tell me that he thinks when I speak of “the city,” that I’m probably not referring to some specific location. (He smiled, and went on about his business.)