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Hate Week: Still Raging by Ray Printer Friendly

It has passed that time of night. I set myself a limit. If I'm still sitting here with a blank page in front of me when that time limit has been reached, I move away. One thing I have learned is that I can rarely force the words.

But fuck it. It's Hate Week, and if I can't squeeze out a few words--like the last crusty bit of toothpaste from the tube you found behind the trash can--then I should probably give up the game altogether.

But I'd be lying if I said it was easy. Hell, everything seems hard these days: getting out of bed, getting to sleep when I go to bed; finding the time, finding the inspiration, finding the words. I'm getting old, getting bored, getting boring. But like I said: fuck it. We'll hang in there together, you and I, for at least one more year, yeah?

Because the world needs saving, and being whine-holes just ain't gonna do the trick. Positive re-enforcement only enforces so much before it begins to crumble.

You can bitch about it, cry about it, or you can throw something rowdy onto the playlist, unscrew the cap, and drink straight from the bottle. Sure, you might have to chase it with a Pepcid AC, but who cares? Hole in your throat, in your stomach lining, your heart, your life, there's always gonna be something.

There are bigger problems.

If you don't know what they are, you're one of them.

I can go over the list, but it's just gonna be more of the same. The world's just as stupid and petulant as it was when we first started Hate Week, when we first started raging about the problems. It hasn't gotten better, and the problems we ranted about then haven't been fixed.

We are raising future generations to be unimaginative, lazy quitters who expect to have the same benefits as the people who actually try and get things accomplished. Trophy kids, getting blue-ribbon decorations even if they come in last, the type of kid that gets a trophy even if they come in last place. Taught that everyone is a winner, trained to wait for the prize instead of trying to earn it.

Dumbing down the future: instead of trying to force them to learn, we continue to make it easier to pretend to learn.

It's all fucked.

Cut off our heads so we don't think, and rip out our spines so we don't revolt, and kick us in the balls, just for good measure. We're headed down a dark path of idiocy, and the people who are convinced they're saving us are the ones who are the most lost.

And the most distressing part? There is no salvation, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. There is only more of the same. Thinking for ourselves is too hard. Being independent is too scary. Being in charge of our own lives is too unfair.

So we'll march along like we're supposed to, giving up more of our individuality with each new law, each new rule, each new wonderful invention that keeps us loyal and weak and stupid. We will sacrifice ourselves for the greater good, even though it's not nearly as good.

It is always easier to surrender, and all anyone wants these days is the easy solution.

But remember, in the back of your muddled mind full of warm fuzziness; as you lug around your fattened-by-fairness belly; as you forget how to take care of yourselves. Remember that there are some of us who won't surrender. There are some of us who don't want it easier. Some of us who love life, with all of its difficulties.

We're out here, and we're always hungry.


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