[Toot!] Index: 0.1
Communism Bit: Off
Some thoughts from your dear friends in my cranium. See, this one time, Jude and Ange were not screaming at each other. And I noticed the calm silence between me ears, so I tuned in and chanced on their discussion from which the ideas and quotes below originated. Sometimes I wish they were like so all the time, that they got along this peacefully always.
If the quotes seem a bit disjointed, it is because I'm not going to bother giving background. Just dumping what I remember. Mostly, I'm not even crediting who said what.
- Yeah, so in making humans the masters of the Earth, God gave them the implicit ability to speak to the Earth. So you can, if it's your kind of thing, talk to animals and hear them talk. And nature loves a chance to talk to the masters. It's snobbery for the animals. Servitude and snobbery. And informational, sometimes. It's how we know for sure that the Earth is crying over our administrative brutality. [...]
- Maybe you're just in denial about the fact that Space, with her litter bickering at her bossom, is a clear picture of the Matriarch. The way she has evolved from the purring, pampered, playful kitty, to the defensive small tigress who assumes the War Stance at the slightest, most-distant surprise. In many ways, she's like your Ma with her twins and how she's suicidal in her dedication to her many children's welfare.
- Ange: Brooks was here.
Jude: So was Red.
Ange: Hehe. It was true Stephen King, you know. The little, beautiful details.
Jude: Yeah, and I've heard Shawshank Redemption had a Christian undertone. You know, this Jesus guy, innocent, goes into jail and then gets out and also gives Red redemption and makes him a fisherman in the end.
Ange: Huh? 1408 had no such "beautiful details". We didn't go past the middle, even. Whatevs. Why do they call you Red?
Jude: Maybe 'cause I'm Irish?
Ange: Hehe. The Irish are the African Europeans. White Niggers, they call 'em.
Jude: As in, Mobadingwe Murphy, the Irish Ethiope?
- I think Coldplay is not a rock band. I mean, you know, there is no real genre they fit in, so we just throw them into "Rock" and "Pop" because they are White and loud. But they, like Staind (for example) are not really rockers. Fix You, was that rock? Viva La Vida, is this rock? Their lead singer was playing on Kanye West's Homecoming, which part was originaly John Legend's. If John Legend were White and 1.5982 decibels louder, he'd be a rocker. I mean ... Ormus Carma was the last true rocker, as this guy says. Or we're just in denial about having liked rock music?
- Well, none of those who fear death has ever died. And, by convention, we know that death doesn't hurt. So why does "Your money or your life!" always yield the money? Thing is, death is getting a bad rap. Death is blissful and all. Maybe they just fear the finality of it (but they should, then, also fear the finality in going to the toilet—no "Undo" button). Me, far as I'm concerned, heartbreak is death. Heartbreak is the real death. In fact, all the things we fear about death (and haven't even proven), are true of heartbreak, and tangibly, provably so.
- Well, yeah, but did you see the look she had on her face? Like she had mistakenly used dried cat poo from her snuff box.
- Yes, so uselessness is part of beauty. Utilitarian things are not beautiful, see. The sensual curves on the soda bottle are useless, but they are why it is pretty. Would you drink out of a cuboid bottle with no colours on it? That's ugly. [...] Yes, kitties too. Like, you know, because their structures—legs eyes, claws, whiskers, stuff—are useless at that age, they are cute. Once they get a use, they cease to be cute. The soft, delicate uselessness is the beauty of baby animals. And some things about girls. Calloused hands are ugly because of their evident utilitarian adaptations. Hehe.
That's it. Jude and Ange, by the way, greet all y'all. Much love from this end.
I want a camera! Too many cat pictures to take. Beautiful cats. See ya. I wrote this away from the Internet, and I don't know how things are over there. How is tout le monde ?