Terrible Beast

There is this terrible beast. It stays up late at night and drinks rum. Tsk, tsk. It writes silly stuff. Sometimes it writes funny stuff, or cynical stuff. Occasionally it writes pathetic stuff. Once in a great while it writes good stuff (well, that is what it flatters itself). It knows better, but it drinks rum anyway. If it would just stick to wine, things would be better, but, well, it doesn’t. It wouldn’t be a beast if it did what was good for it, would it now?
Listening to Battle March Medley from the Pogues, by the by.

Be Thankful

Be thankful that I am not a warrior. Be thankful that I believe in humanitarian ideals. Be thankful that I am, at heart, a peaceable being, in spite of the fire that burns within me. Be thankful that I have not murdered every single fucking person that has done me harm. Be thankful for my reason. Be thankful that the knife in my hand is only good for cutting cheese. Be thankful. This is civilization. Tame the beast within. Had I been raised different, I’d cut you. Cut, cut, cut you.