On Dogs and Bitches
Tonight, on the way home (from where, will become obvious at a later point), I passed a dog. It was a flea-bitten mutt. The kind that deserves pity, because, not due to any fault of its own, it was rejected by the world around her. She was unloveable and dirty. I empathize.
I made the mistake of going out tonight (I could write that statement every time I go out, I am well aware. Yet, I continue this habit like a young boy masturbates, with shame, yet unwilling to stop.) I went out for a dear friend, seeking comfort for both her and I, and honestly believed (first mistake) that a bar, some friends and some drinking would be enough (second mistake). Many of her friends came out, and at some level she should take solace in the fact that so many people honor her company. And I was among the crowd tonight.
Her friends do not do her justice. They are, for the most part, empty-headed and without worth (less than the dog I mentioned before). Their conversations were disgusting to a thinking man. One turned to me and said (please believe this is true),
"So she tells me you are an exishtenshuless."
"Yes," I replied, smiling, "I do fancy existential philosophy."
"That's cool."
I wish Camus would have risen from his grave and kicked her square in the ass. Maybe she would have felt something (for the first time in her life, no doubt) and had a real thought (even if it was only "Did a zombie just kick me in the ass?"). Oh, but the fun did not end there.
Her wonderful companion for the night (a young man that was the member of some frat, which I do not remember) spoke of how he had got an A on a philosophy test by answering the question "Why?" with "Why not?". Some professor should be shot. That might be the only thing I culled from this mush-mouthed, keg-guzzling idiot.
I explained to him why he got the A. That a professor probably recognized his use of Socratic reasoning (a stretch, at best) and figured he had learned something in his class. His response, you might ask?
"I don't care, as long as I got the A!"
Then a great (I use this term while apologizing to the English language for abusing her for the sake of sarcasm) discussion ensued on ends and means. His friend (of previous mispronouncing fame) agreed with him, and getting an A was the most important thing, so who cared how you got it. Hitler would have loved these two. "Killing Jews will make Germany better? Fuck it, I'm in!" (which is ironic because this woman used to date the one Jewish friend I have the honor of knowing).
I am a man among mental midgets, destined to be the dog, wandering the street, looking for solace in a warm spot on the concrete. But there is no warm spot in sight, at least, not yet.
I made the mistake of going out tonight (I could write that statement every time I go out, I am well aware. Yet, I continue this habit like a young boy masturbates, with shame, yet unwilling to stop.) I went out for a dear friend, seeking comfort for both her and I, and honestly believed (first mistake) that a bar, some friends and some drinking would be enough (second mistake). Many of her friends came out, and at some level she should take solace in the fact that so many people honor her company. And I was among the crowd tonight.
Her friends do not do her justice. They are, for the most part, empty-headed and without worth (less than the dog I mentioned before). Their conversations were disgusting to a thinking man. One turned to me and said (please believe this is true),
"So she tells me you are an exishtenshuless."
"Yes," I replied, smiling, "I do fancy existential philosophy."
"That's cool."
I wish Camus would have risen from his grave and kicked her square in the ass. Maybe she would have felt something (for the first time in her life, no doubt) and had a real thought (even if it was only "Did a zombie just kick me in the ass?"). Oh, but the fun did not end there.
Her wonderful companion for the night (a young man that was the member of some frat, which I do not remember) spoke of how he had got an A on a philosophy test by answering the question "Why?" with "Why not?". Some professor should be shot. That might be the only thing I culled from this mush-mouthed, keg-guzzling idiot.
I explained to him why he got the A. That a professor probably recognized his use of Socratic reasoning (a stretch, at best) and figured he had learned something in his class. His response, you might ask?
"I don't care, as long as I got the A!"
Then a great (I use this term while apologizing to the English language for abusing her for the sake of sarcasm) discussion ensued on ends and means. His friend (of previous mispronouncing fame) agreed with him, and getting an A was the most important thing, so who cared how you got it. Hitler would have loved these two. "Killing Jews will make Germany better? Fuck it, I'm in!" (which is ironic because this woman used to date the one Jewish friend I have the honor of knowing).
I am a man among mental midgets, destined to be the dog, wandering the street, looking for solace in a warm spot on the concrete. But there is no warm spot in sight, at least, not yet.
That reminds me of once being told (and probably incorrectly), "You're, like, really intellectual."
Posted by
rwmonty |
8:20 PM
I remember hearing the story the next day. Jesus, that chick's sister was hot.
Posted by
WDV |
12:18 PM
you are the deepest person I know. I miss our talks :(
Posted by
Anonymous |
12:41 PM