Monday, June 23, 2008

You say my kisses are not like his

Every day, when I come into work, there is always at least one dead bug sitting on my desk.

Right now, there are a few random wings and legs sitting on my mouse pad.

On one hand, I admire their tenacity; on the other hand, I’m tired of picking them off my keyboard.

It’s a terrible thing, what we’ve done to these bugs. They spent millions of years developing evolutionary mechanisms to guide their flight by slowly evolving millions of eyes and using them as navigational instruments to maintain course heading, velocity, pitch, and yaw; only to have some fucker named Edison come along and muck it all up with his damned electric light bulb.

I’m sure there’s plenty of time for these bugs to develop new organs to aid their flight, because they’ll probably be around long after we fade away, but, in the meantime, they’re stuck butting their heads into computer screens, porch lights, and glow-in-the-dark vibrators everywhere.

When it comes to changing biological engineering, it’s understandable that these things take thousands of years, or more, for more complex life forms, because it’s like trying to play Jenga with a living creature; you can’t just yank out one of the bricks, you have to pull it out slowly and hope that the whole thing doesn’t come crashing down.

So, I don’t get upset when I hear that human beings haven’t developed super powers, I can continue my toxic waste, radioactive spider bites, and over exposure to gamma radiation treatments and be patient at the same time; however, I do get more than a little peeved when people are slow to socially adapt to their changing environment.

Still, I am more than willing to give people the benefit of the doubt; after all, the world is a very different place now than it was when most of you old fogeys were still tearing it up and wearing your sock garters.

Even back in the 50s and 60s, when most of my peers’ parents were born, there were only two and a half billion people in the world, no one knew what a computer was, and doctors thought it was perfectly safe to give thalidomide to pregnant women.

My own phocomelia not withstanding, we now know a lot more about the world than our parents, and their parents ever could have hoped to know.

You cannot catch gay from sharing a glass of water with a hair dresser.

Politicians from Texas should not be in charge of anything they can’t properly pronounce such as nuclear bombs or toasters.

Your elder’s deserve respect only for as long as it takes for a court to find them non compos mentis.

As we forge ahead, the world will continue to change, and it’s up to us to shape the future for the mutated humans who will survive our nuclear war; therefore, it is imperative that we set aside our foolish notions of conservatism and embrace change for what it is… evolution.

Not all change will lead to a good place, as any of us can attest from the time we thought it would be a good idea to get our hair cut like a character we saw on a TV show, to buy something we saw advertised in an infomercial, or to get off the toilet a split second before the real diarrhea came; sometimes, a little caution does a body good, but when caution leads to stagnation, just like when a pretty mountain stream is dammed, a pleasant place to rest quickly turns into a big puddle of shit.

Recently, there has been a big furor over gay marriage due to the California Supreme Court’s ruling that a state law prohibiting homosexual unions violates the people’s right to basic dignity and human respect; activists on both sides of the issue have promised to fight on, no matter what the cost, or how much TV exposure they have to endure to promote their cause.

Not only is gay marriage an idea whose time has finally come, but the longer people fight to keep it from happening the more they look like the dead flies sitting on my keyboard every morning.

Sometimes it’s worth taking the time to slow down for a little introspection, but sometimes that giant light you’re flying towards is nothing more than a great, big bigot-trapping bug-zapper.

Sex Mahoney for President

Currently listening to:

Blonde on Blonde
by Bob Dylan
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