Friday, June 15, 2012


Since I've rejoined the Babylon Drone Brigade I've been under tremendous stress. I really don't know how people do it year after year after year. It must be the coffee or some innate delusion that fixing some stranger's plumbing or erecting a fence or sorting dirty trash or cutting out cancerous breast tissue has some larger meaning. How else could we all keep plodding on day after day in the grind? Maybe it's the collective contract we agree on that you contribute something to the greater good even if it is unclear what that might be or why money is involved. I guess we're just a dumb animal who survives because we are dumb. If we were any smarter we'd go crazy. Or maybe I'm just projecting my hectic existence on everyone else. You all jump through hoops involving psych tests, transmission failures, flesh eating bugs, crickets mating on your forehead, drunks passing out on the floor of the gypsy van that you live in and sunburns from sorting rocks in 108 degree blazing sun because Texas needs another bar-b-que restaurant. Right? Or is that just me?

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.