Ears of corn and artichoke hearts and heads of lettuce are endearing terms for evening fare. It’s as though someone got a little loose with the Vodka one night and constructed some vegetable art in the form of human beings and the playful personification caught on. But now this:
Oh sure, we can chalk it up to misappropriated bath salts or multiple screenings of I AM LEGEND, but I think something more is amiss.
What once was a republic has now succumbed to a more Darwinian notion of “survival of the fittest.” Moral decay is ripping the teeth from our society. In Washington, our representatives are constantly at each other’s throats while PAC’s and lobbyists prey upon every misspoken word. Television’s talking heads report murders, robberies, and abductions and spew hateful terms like greedy bastards and racists and predators. Topic for further research: In the hierarchy of ideological insults, is commie bastard worse than capitalist pig? What once was splenetic dissension amongst the public ranks has now turned venomous clash. We have a society where priests and teachers are fucking little kids, where government employees are partying on the taxpayers’ dollars, where the news media lies without retribution and where students kill.
And now this: People are eating people. Yes, I’ll write that one more time.
PEOPLE…are EATING PEOPLE!
In the past: Hey, Joey, I was cruising down Melrose the other day and some guy walked past me.
Today: Hey, Joey, I was cruising down Melrose the other day and some guy walked past me and took a bite out of my arm.
It’s bad enough out here in California that we experience the infrequent shark attack – frankly, I’ve been a bit skittish about the ol’ blue Pacific ever since that asshole Spielberg dropped his Super 8 into the ocean – but now I’ve gotta watch my back on land? There I am, stuck in rush-hour traffic on the 405, powering through my morning Egg McMuffin, when here comes Carnivorous Carl with a mouthful of un-brushed fangs and a ravenous gleam in his eye, screaming “I’m gonna munch your face.” We have officially reached the bottom of the genetic cesspool.
During my schooling, someone once stole my milk money, and I think I recall having a group of older kids make fun of me for having long hair – and yea there was that embarrassing playground experience with the wet jeans – but my formative years were fairly tame. And now, without training, I’m being thrust into an urban jungle where people don’t hunt for supper, but rather, people hunt people for supper. I’m not ready for this.
When I was a child, my parents had a tendency toward exaggeration. They said things like “if you don’t toughen up, the world will eat you alive.” I had no idea they were serious.