Monday, June 19, 2006


Okies on the run; mass exodus. Okie in the desert; hitchhiker in a Great Red Shark. Spic, nigger, kike; and the sound of a head breaking open on a curb.
The fear and the rage and the bigotry. The despair and the shame and the indifference. The depravity and the madness and the misery. The courage and the patience and the passion.

...and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

That sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting... On our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave.

Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it.

A book called atonement. A janitor from Mars.
A million things about the planet that twist the insides. A billion things about humans that do the same.

And in spite of it all, two beautiful people on two beautiful days, and the way a pair of blue eyes will look at a woman.
Baby, you are going to miss that plane.

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