Don't Forget To Turn Off the Light At the End Of the Tunell

Sometimes the truth is impossible to discern (Verbal Kint was Kaiser Soze?).  At other times it is painfully obvious (Insert Scooby-Doo mystery).  Often it is nothing but nonsensical blather (Paging Night.  Paging M. Night.)  But, when that wave crests just as the sun rises over the mountain top, truth can be both nuanced and all-important (The 1st rule is...).

When I see war, I see this...



The Vietnam war and the social movement surrounding it were clear.  There were hawks and doves, hippies and squares, those looking forward and those looking back.  It was a seminal time (get your mind out of the gutter) in American history.  A throng of well educated idealists led a charge against imperialism and neo-manifest destiny, a bold cultural cacophony that fed both the heart and the mind.  The best and the brightest fought for a nation that might allow the vision of the world's greatest country to endure.  Against a backdrop of teenagers' blood a massive groundswell poured to life with the battle as crystalline as Swavorski.

The enemy we struggle against today is not nearly so well-defined.  He has lurked for longer than we care to remember, reveling in our failures and betraying the worst in us into a way of life.  For a population born with every advantage possible, with gifts and magics that our forefathers could scarcely imagine, we choose to wallow in the ostentatious mire of ignorance and sloth.  The enemy is the mud on the mirror, the anger or denial that you might feel at accepting this.  We are failures.  We are babbling, incoherent fools.  We have lost sight of any sort of human values and degraded into pigs at the trough.  Wow, that was a terrific episode of Ice Loves Coco, another miracle of modern musicianship from Big Time Rush, and, OMG, what an incisive tweet from @KhloeKardashian.  My favorite nugget of radiant intellect --

I had a nip slip and I loved it! But my twat is fine! 

Khloe had the classless audacity to post these photos of her 13 and 15 year old half-sisters (and some friends).  Notice her watermark if you think I'm kidding.

If we were actually doing anything, I might entertain the concept.  Half intense production needs the balance of half debauchery.

Meet me at Galt's Gulch.  Bring some liquor... And Kate Upton.

Cheers.