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Enough

I've been polite and not mentioned it until now, but politeness is not my greatest strength, so... I've had the runs for as long as the city's had rains, and it's been raining most of the last week and a half.

First thing this morning, like every morning all week, I rushed to the toilet for an urgent and liquefied squat that squirted out of my anus faster than lies from Bill Clinton's mouth.

It's nice to be able to squirt diarrhea in a bathroom of my own, though. The little stained glass window is pretty, and it's sweet sharing the porcelain with only one person instead of 105. But why all the diarrhea? 

At first I thought it was my recent switch to all-natural fake mayonnaise from the Rainbow Store, or an afternoon when I snacked on too much dried fruit. All that has passed, though, and still my feces comes out like a garden hose with one of those fancy spray nozzles. Every fart is a finger-cross — will it be only gas, or something more? Often, it's something more.

Tomorrow I'm going to fast — skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner — to get whatever's in me all the way out of me.

♦ ♦ ♦

Taking a dump isn't all I did today, but I guess that's all I'll write about. I worked all day, now I'm drowsy, and it's zzz-time.

♦ ♦ ♦

Slept three hours and woke with a rant in me, sorry:

When I have a word to say about capitalism, the word is usually "sucks." It's an economic system that reduces necessities, dreams, health, and every aspect of human existence to mere money. If you ask me, I'd say capitalism is a form of mental illness.

Nothing's wrong with coming out ahead on a deal, which is the basis of capitalism. I currently sell myself at $5 an hour, because that's a little more than what it costs to survive. At that wage plus tips, I make a small profit. Not a lot, but enough to keep me alive.

Call that capitalism, and it's not insane (yet). When it happens on a small scale, with people like LeeAnn and Stevi at the store, or Jose renting his woofers and tweeters, capitalism is an honest way to make a living.

If a business isn't profitable, either prices go up or expenses go down or the business goes out of business. Makes sense, so far, but that's where the line should be drawn, and here's where it gets crazy:

When a business is profitable, it's never profitable enough. There's no such thing as "enough," and that's where capitalism gets psychotic.

There must always be more and more and more — more locations, more product lines, more competitors devoured, more dividends, and projections of higher earnings in the next quarter. The goal is no longer to make a profit, or make a living; the goal is to make more and more and more and more and more and more...

How much money do some people need? I need $5 an hour. Bill Gates needs twenty-two billion dollars, and that's still not enough — he needs more. Seriously and literally, to anyone sane it looks like something's wrong in his head, in anyone's head, who needs more when he obviously has more than enough already.

From Pathetic Life #10
Thursday, March 16, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

Pathetic Life 

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