It has come to my attention that a great many people who probably do not drink nearly enough beer have got their knickers in a knot about the unpredictable doom of Terrorism. Find something else to obsess about motherfuckers. Living in Fear is not living. If you are genuinely Living in Fear you are Dead As Elvis and probably taking twice as big a shit as Elvis was taking because you are so fucking concerned about matters you have little if any means of addressing.
After I watched the towers burning in New York a few years ago on my overweight tv I took my dog out for a walk and bought my papers for the next day's horse races. My home track quite sensibly went ahead with the planned card. I bet on a horse named American Justice. It finished up the track.
That is the same place you will finish if you do anything but laugh at the out of control fascists on both sides of the ball in the Super Bowl War of Wars. The other thing you can do to remind the fascists looking for a bomb up your ass that the ideal of liberty lives on is by organizing for Freedom, Honesty and Integrity.
But whatever the fuck you do, would you please stop crying about our once proud world of liberties getting flushed down the toilet like all the beer shits I had today? My asshole hurts from all that beer shit. That is someting to cry about.
...Anthony lay back on his pillows, his hands clasped behind his head, his eyes half shut. Then, after a long silence, he turned to Staithes and said abruptly: 'Don't you ever feel that you simply can't be bothered to do what you have decided on? Just now , for example, I found myself wondering all of a sudden why on Earth I'd been talking to you like this - why I'd been thinking these things before you came - why I'd been trying to make up my mind to do something. Wondering and feeling that I simply could not be bothered. Thinking it would be better just to evade it all and go back to the familiar routine. The quiet life. Even if the quiet life would be fatal. Fatal, mortal, but all the same anything going for it.' He shook his head. 'Probably if you hadn't come to shame me into some sort of resolution, that's what I would have done - escaped from it all and gone back to the quiet life.' He laughed. 'And perhaps, he added, "I should do it even now. In spite of you.' He sat up, lifted the mosquito net and stepped out of bed, 'Im going to have my bath,'
Aldous Huxley - Eyeless in Gaza
Take a bath, smoke a joint, find some friends who think war needs a motherfucking puck or build a bomb shelter with a sign on it that says, Mr. Hockey has Gone Fishing. Just stop whining about war like you cannot move to Canada and get a different perspective on The Horror. We have lots of beer, dope and pucks for everybody.