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Mad Monger Artist
Some Mad Artist had let loose. In a wild fit, the world was spattered in
colors and textures that no sound mind could ever hope of even dreaming
of. Reality was being stretched to its limits, and beyond. On this
autumn day, the world was on fire. Sunlight was illuminating every
particle, every particle was humming, each collision was a spark. The
sparks flashed beyond the field and periphery of my conception.
I drew the curtains on the meager, pale distraction of fall foliage
outside my window, and got back to reading "The latest news from Toto",
or "The Keyboard as a Long/Bottleneck."
Then, Mr. Young's disclosure, DoJ's "Shared Traits of Potential
Assassins:" Sometimes you see those "Wanted's" posted in the post office
and think, "Jeeze, looks a little like me." Then you try to remember
where you were during all those blackouts and fuzzy periods. Well, I
looked at DoJ's STOPAsses and thought ( with a Homer Simpsonesque voice
balloon appearing above my head), "That, ...sounds like me."
My next thought was more comforting, Gov'STOPA was a description of the
species in general; both in suits and out, behind the counter and
before, in front of the camera and behind the scope, in the
(gas)chambers and on the lever/gavel. But hey, admitting you fit the
profile is kinda like raising your hand. So I'll sit quietly in the back
of the class and read the deaththreats carved on the desktops.
Who's Toto gonna be on Halloween?