Foreign crack addiction, ass vs. pachyderm eugenics

If you had an addiction -- say, an addiction to foreign crack -- and you wanted to kick that addiction, not necessarily because you don't like the feeling you get from having a nice, relaxing smoke of crack, but rather in the interest of furthering the safety and independence of your own sovereign body, and freeing yourself from the depressing, dangerous, and economically lopsided jaunts to 110th street on a Saturday night, it would make a ton of sense to go to your local pharmacy and demand that they give you home-fried crack safely, cheaply, and preferably mined from the Alaskan wilderness, until wind-, solar-, and bio-crack are made available and cost-effective to the general consumer. Right?

In forty years or so, someone will make a movie, and in that movie, a crowd of thousands will start chanting "drill, baby, drill!" like a bunch of Bacchic orgyists. And it will be absolutely fucking chilling.

For the last couple weeks I've wanted to do a sort of controlled physiognomic study wherein I take sample groups of, say, 1,000 Democrats and 1,000 Republicans, and then show them screen-shots selected at random of individuals in the crowds of the respective national conventions. They would then have to answer one question, either in the positive or negative: "Just to look at 'em, does this person creep you the fuck out?" I would be you shotguns to pot-stickers that there would be a noticeable lopsidedness in the results, on both sides. Because Republicans are just fucking creepy.


Sisyphus said...

So, somebody's back in town but hasn't started a reading schedule yet, eh? Are we going to have dirty readings of Henry James photos this year? Or will it be more focused on bizarre beer screeds and strippers motorboating?

(hint: I can overread a realist novel all by my ownself. I need some random in my life, if only vicariously.)

D said...

I will promise you one thing, and one thing only. I will never, at any point, while doing anything that has any connection with this blog, have any idea what the fuck I'm doing. As ever, I remain,

faithfully yours,


p.s. -- Congratulations on your paper! You go, girl!