Et tu, my dearest illusory friend? I'm not talking about Straight, except as the major impetus to find some logical, believable substitute for my early shattered illusions. Hell, Straight wasn't even that big a deal to me, what with having watched my whole family gradually taken over by the Seedling pod people from around the age of 5 or 6.
I'm talking about the harsh reality of $200 barrels of oil, the fact that everybody knows the facts that portend such and those that, with very little--shit even lazzy minded--extrapolation should impel us all to quit the illusion that life here in Middle Earth will never change and we'll always be able to drive on down to the local branch of Monsanto's food conglomerate (grocery store) and get all the grub we need.
But we don't. We go on pretending, just as we pretended that something like 9/11 could not, would not ever touch our sacred soil.
I shit you not, that was the most frightening thing I've seen in my lifetime. Not the event itself, that was predictable enough. But the response. I foolishly thought that when it happened, and anybody who's ever read a book more sophisticated than those published by McGraw-Hill knew it would, that Americans would finally connect the dots and realize that this ludacris lifestyle of ours is not sustainable because it depends on subjugation and exploitation of the majority of the world's population. Weak, hungry and fucked up as they may be, they do outnumber us something like 1000/1. When we finally reach the tipping point, it's game over and so fast it'll make the stupid dempublican rank-n-file's heads spin. Cold comfort, indeed, that they'll be able without trouble to convince themselves that it's all the fault of some bediapered brown dude in a cave somewhere on the other side of the planet.
Sorry, I'm just really fucking dissapointed in the human race right now. Back to looking for a pack of dogs that will take me in.