french fries were invented by the Spanish

¡Feliz día de los reyes magos! In the Spanish-speaking world, this is our Christmas, at least it once was, but now, this this whimsical phenomenon called globalization, the differences are disappearing. Who would have thought that being able to shop at Wal-Mart world-wide would bring about world peace!

I haven’t much to say to-day; have I ever?

I wish I were more comfortable with my writing; sometimes it flows like effluvia. Sometimes in the corner of my eye I see Ethiopia. But the moments of scarcity and dearth are fewer, if not imaginary. I find myself producing the most wonderful stories when I talk to myself, when I am enraptured. Alas, I have no pen at hand and the oral narratives die forever with the last uttered syllable. Any attempt to recover the creation of inspiration never amounts to anything more than utter frustration. Fortunately, the moments of creation are forever growing. Perhaps I desire to believe this. But what are we mortals, are we not dreamers, primitive beings that live in a world of myth? If the bread eaters wish to have God, to eat of his loaves, why shouldn’t the citadel of ivory washed over with the chrome of histrionics and seriousness be allowed to believe he is becoming more creative. It’s only fair!

Yes, this is not a fair or unfair world; it is simply a world.

Please, let me go on believing in these mere conventionalities! I beg of you.

Silly, yes how silly is life. Can you prove to me that it is not so? Perhaps you shall fail, actually you shall fail. It could be said that a being like me, a ridiculous being, yes for I am utterly ridiculous beyond belief, is able to survive in this world because it too is ridiculous. No, it is not only a ridiculous world, it is an absurd world! But yes, you cannot convince me otherwise, after all believing is seeing. Those that say, Seeing is believing, are completely off their rockers. Think about it. The mind is a phantastic thing. I don’t believe in angels and I shall never see them; I do believe in the UPS guy though and he said hi to me once and I blushed. I warned you, I am absurd!

Yesterday I was asked about what I’d look like with short hair. Honestly, I no longer remember; although I have an idea, it is faint. Everyone seems to love this new hair and I really don’t care. Harsh, but honesty is not supposed to be comforting. I either hate my hair or love it. Most of the time I am indifferent and herein lies my problem: indifference.


Caption: After effecting serious thought, I found myself forever lost in it.

Indifference, whence does it arise? I was once the child that would starve himself because he felt guilty that he had food while some poor souls in some distant country, again, e.g., Ethiopia, were starving. Now it does not bother me, in fact I blame the West for making the situation worse! What? Seriously, obviously the econsystem and all that good stuff cannot handle the number of people and yet we feed them but are we helping or prolonging the suffering? Honestly, what are we doing? We don’t want to see our beautiful worlds harassed with images of the suffering over there so we throw a few pennies at the problem. Ah is this not like Affirmative Action? yes, some pathetic and really insignificant solution to a serious problem. It is a token solution, as, e.g., soldiers at an airport. We Westerners never really put our whole heart into anything until it is on its last breaths. But before this happens, we reform … slight adjustments to prolong the life of something that immediately began to die as soon as it was conceived.

I have become so vicious, what is wrong with me? How dare I say that we make things worse in places like Ethiopia! No, we are doing the right thing!

We Westerners are a funny bunch. We lovers of democracy, freedom and all that whimsical bullshit we espouse, did not flinch a second as the Taleban used our money to round up adultresses and shoot them in stadiums that were built with our money! No, the Taleban were our friends in our silly war against drugs. Wait what war? But what did we care about human rights? As long as we were creating a diversion to a more serious problem, i.e., our decadence, we were content. Yes, we can stop the drugs from leaving Afghanistan or Colombia and so forth, but what of it, when we are not really dealing with the demand, the market that exists. Let’s recall, it takes two to tango.

I shouldn’t speak. What do I know of drugs? To me, they are stupid things for stupid people. I’m too good, too Christian for it. Humanity is defined by suffering. Did Christ not suffer? Does not the Church emphasize his suffering in order to predicate his humanity? And what of my heroes, the pusillanimous Greeks, those effete and effeminate people, did they not believe that we only come to suffer? Yes, I rather suffer and be a martyr than use drugs to escape the reality of this existence.

Now I am lost. I want to be happy. No I don’t want to be happy; I just want to experience life – the good and the bad.

I have said many things, inspired by my daemon. Blessed little voice! I am exhausted, so I go to sleep. I am silly! I am silly. Perhaps I’ll die tomorrow! One never knows these things, and if we take life too seriously, we will not relinquish it with virtuous serenity. Instead we’ll cry and make a fool of ourselves, as if begging and whimpering could do anything! Silliness! After all, image is everything. Let’s make those around us feel comfortable and lie to them even if we are incredibly terrified by the prospect that in a few second we shall be no more. No, for their sake, let us dissimulate. Then they shall say, Oh what a wonderful person he was, but not because you were, but because you minimized their distress, the distress that fear of dying causes them.

Oh wonderful human beings. Amen. Good day. Alas, no presents for me.


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