The Title Goes Here

 

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This humor essay/story/bullshit is related to Negative Geography. Admittedly, it’ll probably register as too bizarre for most. But I like bizarre. Here’s an excerpt, and it’s available in full here: The Title Goes Here

Here’s an excerpt:

Anyone could tell that members of the Meat Locker Association, thanks to their long and close association with the cows, were not thinking clearly: they couldn’t deduce a pocket handkerchief if they were shown a pocket, a running nose and a hand loitering first around the pocket an then around the nose. And the trails of illogic that they blazed could never be retraced: would grow back immediately into impenetrable thickets of random association; so that trying to argue with them was like trying to read fine-print under a strobe light. (During the interval of light the eye struggles to find the place it left off, and just as it finds its starting place, all goes black again, ad infinitum). So if you wished to argue with one of them you had better be prepared to spend most of your time reminding them, and trying to explain to them, what they had previously thought, before you could ever hope to begin disagreeing with them again. Meanwhile, their minds’ eyes continued flitting about their craniums like moths, alighting here and there on extraneous notions. These irrelevancies were new holes in the dam you were trying to construct to hold together their points-of-view in the hope that finally you could begin the work of demolition with some confidence that they would understand that it’s their own damn point of view you were demolishing, and thereby achieve for yourself, at last, some satisfaction in your arguments. But alas they were never capable of identifying with any of their former arguments because they were aggravatingly free of selfishness (the concrete that holds together, that preserves even against reason if necessary, one’s own personal viewpoint). And so without this concrete no impoundment was strong enough to withstand the corrosive effects of the meat people’s selfless and unfocused witlessness, which could erode away even the most well-reasoned point of view in a matter of seconds; which was certainly too meager a portion of time to begin the second half of the argument (your side of it). And most annoyingly of all (because it would falsely raise one’s boats of hope) they’d utter now and then a “perhaps” or a “do you really think so?” to pretend interest in your increasingly manic two-sided monologue. More here

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