The Fargo Kantrowitz'z Literary Campsite

Make less money, but be happier. Work work schedules hexagonally, man. You know, work a little here and a little there, you make less money, but so what? Make less money. But be happier. I don’t know how this works it just works. If you work less you will make less money but you will be happier. Even if you think you won’t be happier, you will be happier. Make less money, at least don’t let them know you sweat.

Sometimes you stink. So what? Make more money if you want to make less money. Get me? Make more money while you make less money. Get it? Numbers. Ask the number man the rules of the game and he’ll reduce them in a matter of seconds.

That’s why the government keeps kids from learning their numbers because it’s all fucked up. If we kids knew our numbers then we could call them on their numbers. Remember the first thing bush said he was afraid of was fuzzy math. Well he has a right to be, because he knows that no matter how smart he is in math, his numbers won’t necessarily be the last and final numbers. He figures that he could be proved wrong and laughed at. Well, bushy boy isn’t standing for it. He’s richi riching himself right to the top of the tower of, well, everything. Love! & the American way. Loving himself is alright. He’s going to make it to the top, but those numbers (10,000 dead in Iraq. 550 Americans. & this doesn’t even talk about the wounded.). Sooner or later someone is going to prove him illogical and he will get mean.

The computer is finally saying that illogic shouldn’t necessarily be an idea’s ending point. What is there is a Higher Purpose. Enter Jesus. Over there J man. You’ll do . You’ll confound their numbers at least in the eyes of my constituents who can barely read for the fine job we do at keeping them away from their letters…

“i said numbers. Fuzzy up their numbers.”
Well, mr president, their letters are pretty fuzzied up too now. It’s not just their numbers.
‘You mean to say there’s been no child left behind?”
Why, no sir, I don’t unders…
“perfect, draw that up and stuff it in the pipeline. No child left behind and we want their math and english skills to be top notch, notch enough to make america proud (insert smile here, attempt to not scurry for jokes concerning his truly (mythical) nose and sneaky (and sleepy) eyes.

(W. is not an inviting human being, especially after you truly find out about the kinds of damage that his “policies” do.)

I’m sure he’s guaranteed somebody’s loved one took on Jesus because he’s understanding the reel people’s plight and making sure that there ain’t no more death or nothin like that, aw, shucks, (are southern people really that stupid?) Bush makes it appear so. We are all southern people in George Bush’s utopian story line. We are the little people. Weee. Whoop dee dee! It’s a hummmm-dinger!

As far back as the 80s I can remember not liking country music. The idea that America belongs to the cowboys (still!) Is largely untrue. We are the world. We are yellow, blue, purple, white, black, brown, umber, beige and two shades of burnt orange and yet we still don’t and can’t figure out that we are brothers among the tribe Human, brothers and sisters here to make sure the other understands that if you understand then you don’t have to worry about this or that. That if you are caring for your fellow man then you can live outside of fear. Terror disappears. Whose got time when the world is providing the resources for sustainable living?

Release the new clean technologies that provide energy. Make it truly abundant. Ancient tribes took the time to do great art. We can get there again even while knowing our babies are fed and we have a roof over our heads. Care needs to be taken. Love freely given out. Lies abated. Time to ask the politicians to step down and the people stand up for what is right; no more killing in the name of God.