the very beginning of the end of the end all be all could have been longer. but alas, we’re left with to make the best with scraps of the mediocre we’ve wrestled away from the dogs that they’ve seen fit to throw under the table as we’re sliding gracefully under the bus in a last ditch effort to save us all. maybe if we clap our hands and say “yeah” we’ll get noticed and get the recognition we deserve pretmortem. in all likely hood we’ll be forgotten rather rapidly like bad movies in the afternoon once you hit sunlight again and the real world has a chance to slap away the last vestiges of obvious plot twists and bad dialogue. grinding, screeching, slow down, because even when you don’t and everyone knows it, you still have to act like you care. you have no interest in saving. in fact, a major part of the point is to not. but also, a smaller part, yes much much smaller, is to pretend like you do so that everyone can feel okay about having to sacrifice perfectly good people who by bad luck or coincidence just hadn’t made their way up high enough to not be above the feet that do the kicking off. ah yes, when the hammer comes down and things get rapidly flatter and we are all for better or worse on the same level, we’ll have a much clearer (and quite possibly disturbing) idea about what separates us from the beasts. if there’s anything at all. but so seriously, what are we doing after breakfast?
