spark plugs

The other night I was sitting on the couch in my underwear gapping my spark plugs and drinking dark rum, a painless task indeed.

So when things were all set at about half a millimeter, I got up to pour another drink and while punching out the ice over the yellowed sink I saw reflected in the frozen window one criminal of a man... That is to say your handsome narrator.

Yes, indeed, the same man the 6 o’clock news illustrates and warns all citizens about.

It’s amazing to me that I or most anyone else for that matter can for the bigger part of a day manage to convince one person that things are otherwise. That is, that I’m not a criminal and don’t rightly deserve to be locked up, or to have my pants pulled down, kicked in the ass and thrown on the street. Human ooze is the most serious contagion... all bent cocks, yeasty vaginas and spit and shit.

What beauty... So be fruitful and multiply, as god said to Noah, as if the population of the people had nothing to do with his whole mess in the first place.

blahhh... cademics

There are many reasons why academics rub me the wrong way. Not the least of which is a personal tendency towards self-deprecation.

In addition to this assuredly far fetched reason is their insistence on confusing a job with reality.

The cold facts are that the educational institution is a factory like any other where labour is converted into something that is neither more nor less useful than a tin can.

Okay, maybe the job is more interesting than cannery work... maybe, maybe not, I couldn't say from experience... okay, so I'll take your word for it... but it certainly can be no more interesting than playing hockey or writing a poem (though it might well pay better or worse).