Male-ish Bonding
When Intellectualism stormed away from Conservatism, Daoism felt he could help. The only reason he didn’t was that he simply was never going to. A man may be strong enough to jump in the midst of crocodiles and manage to wrestle one down, but if he had any sense he would keep his feet on the ground. Silently, Pragmatism walked up behind Daoism, putting a hand on his shoulder in silent agreement and pouring him another cup of wine.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Nihilism Walks Through Nowhere
Nihilism Walks Through Nowhere
A dusty road he would have never imagined his mismatched shoes gracing stretched before him like fate, another thing he knew didn’t matter. He didn’t believe, period, but he did remember. The crater stood in the same place dozens had fled from years ago. Nihilism had been mayor here in his teens, after all. He was so young. Not one to fall into the black pit of nostalgia, he walked on.
A dusty road he would have never imagined his mismatched shoes gracing stretched before him like fate, another thing he knew didn’t matter. He didn’t believe, period, but he did remember. The crater stood in the same place dozens had fled from years ago. Nihilism had been mayor here in his teens, after all. He was so young. Not one to fall into the black pit of nostalgia, he walked on.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Dadaism Seizes the Narrative
Dadaism Seizes the Narrative
Hedonism lit more cigarettes than usual. Existentialism understood. He, too, could wait until the tense midmorning left him.
He felt like an asshole.
He felt like a winner.
He wasn't at home.
“You see how I can use Intellectualism to completely hijack a story line?”
Pragmatism frowned, “Great job, Dadaism, but you’re the only one amused.”
A grin painted onto a dirty canvas was Dadaism’s face: “Logic. Two things constructed the same must be similar to each other in some respect. Amused rhymes with confused.”
Pragmatism considered playing along to end it, something about Dadaism needing to become “disabused” of his obnoxious ideas, but inevitably took the simpler route. He called Geology for a ride home.
Hedonism lit more cigarettes than usual. Existentialism understood. He, too, could wait until the tense midmorning left him.
He felt like an asshole.
He felt like a winner.
He wasn't at home.
“You see how I can use Intellectualism to completely hijack a story line?”
Pragmatism frowned, “Great job, Dadaism, but you’re the only one amused.”
A grin painted onto a dirty canvas was Dadaism’s face: “Logic. Two things constructed the same must be similar to each other in some respect. Amused rhymes with confused.”
Pragmatism considered playing along to end it, something about Dadaism needing to become “disabused” of his obnoxious ideas, but inevitably took the simpler route. He called Geology for a ride home.
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