Hi everybody. I hope everyone is OK and happy wherever you may find yourself in the world, because things could be much worse. You could have been born in Pakistan.
I was listening to NPR on Saturday, returning from covering my high school football game in middle America when it was announced that 20,000 (the death toll is now estimated at 30,000) people were killed in a massive earthquake in Pakistan. I cannot imagine what those people must feel. Their nation is already battered and more impoverished than any of us could ever imagine.
And now, because the earth decided to heave, there are 30,000 less Pakistani's on the earth. That is the equivalent of a chunk of Toledo's denizens going bye-bye. How would you live? What would motivate you to see tomorrow? All the while I sat on my sofa yesterday, enjoying a lazy Sunday of sports. Hard to imagine that we live on the same planet.
With a snap of his fingers G-O-D brought quite a few into his kingdom, that is, if you believe in that sort of thing. I am reminded of the Tiger Lilies, "Crack of Doom" off Bad Blood and Blasphemy - a brilliant record, if you ask me.
Crack of Doom
The loss of 30,000 people is indeed tragic, but don't fool yourself buddy. Every day we die a little bit more. It just takes a lot longer, we suffer many more disappointments, and we become increasingly more jaded; until finally, like a pot of chili kept on a slow burn on a bitter January day, we turn into a crusted pile of crap and rely on someone else to scrape us up and effectively throw us away. C$, you ask me what motivates me to see tomorrow? Quite simply, every day, it is the strong belief that there is no way possible for tomorrow to get any worse than today. Unfortunately, as I begin my fourth decade and bravely venture forth to be beaten down by a whole new, more significant, set of disappointments, it becomes clear that tomorrow never is better than today. The absolute best that any of us can do is crawl through each day as inconspicuously as possible and hope that for one brief 24 hour period the cruel gods of fate don't hold their magnifying glass up to us and burn us, like laboring ants on a city sidewalk.
Holy shit, Thunder. Your darkness is tangible. I feel like I just downed 12 ounces of bitternes and despair via your eloquence. This slow, plodding build toward ultimate destruction we call life makes me wonder why we bother at all. I am going to get drunk, now. With each toast made to the ants...
I'm sad now.
I think ThunderPants needs a bite of Happiness Pie
http://www.cavecompany.com/happiness pie.mp3
sorry my linky didn't work. copy and paste this bitch ass link mofos.
Happiness Pie
why the f isn't this working
last try
happiness pie
i hate your website