welcome. to my home away from homes, that feeble gesture at providing a glimpse into the depths of my most unwholesome soul. tonight I find myself twenty dollars richer (after spending ten on a bottle of vodka) from a wholly boring job making sure children do not drink in public places.
but what I'M really here about is to put to text some concern I have regarding children, love and the whole follied institution of marriage. I am a cheater, even if I haven't cheated on every girlfriend I've had, I've cheated on those with which it counted. to quote HS Thompson, "sex is as worthless without love, as love is without sex" (THE PROUD HIGHWAY, v.1, around page 150). everyone cheats, and if they don't they might as well be dead. to bind oneself to another is, in this day and age of consensual sex, extramarital fornication and just plain hedonism a most noble and outright costly endeavor.
if YOU want to do it, fine, but just look at the divorce rates, and at the amount of pain and anguish children suffer when mommy and daddy can't just fuck each other, and think twice before dropping five grand on a diamond mined by African forced child laborers. Sure, it sounds nice, a white picket fence and negative ten in the bank, a job you hate and which hates you back, coming home lying to your spouse about your day because you don't want to burden her white ass after a day of dealing with your snotty, kleptomaniacal spawn. i offer no solutions but for this one. don't get married, have at least four girlfriends who pay for you at all times, and spend your money on making something out of yourself.
gone are the days when the hopes and dreams of one man could rest on the backs of his children, in hopes that they, one day, would become the next rockefeller or gates. gone are the days of spreading one's genetic seed within an enclosed or for that point even fluctuating population, for with so many billions, your infintesimal contribution doesn't mean jack shit. instead, use that money to start a business, any kind of business, art, writing, philanthropic, carpentry. not that you can't have both, but for chirstsakes at least wait until you're forty and have had some fun with your life before knocking up some innocent young filly.
then you can pass on some real fucking world wisdom to those little anklebiters, and teach them to doubt everything, even your own authority, while making sure they understand the importance of self-respect and the sanctity of the human spirit. and for the love of god have them read, and i mean READ, the classics, from Herodotus over Traven, stopping by at Kant's house for a handjob, and ending up ultimately with Hunter S.T. for a rum soaked introduction to the life of a true and virtuous firebrand. give them Stevenson, Gaiman and Gibson for a jog into the fantastic unknown, and teach them to TALK BACK, eshewing the facade of authority for true discourse and a real, unbridled stretching of the mind.
to crush the spirit of a rambunctious and curious soul for the sake of conformity to the social norm is a crime, and should be punished as such. for it is he who steps outside of his bounds and stretches, in whatever direction he chooses, that may fly too close to the sun, and not he who kowtows before the false facade of justice and the public good, for he is doomed to oblivion, and his name will be as quickly forgotten, as a sandcastle built at low tide. Enough. and that's about all I have to say on that. have one with me now, and let us soothe the beast inside.
X
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