Mar 29, 2007 11:29
Bill O'Reilly should have a stroke that robs him of his abilities to speak and write, so that he can only listen to other people's opinions for the rest of his life. This is a genuine desire of mine. When I told William this, he said I was a "misanthropic sociopath," which he's actually been calling me for a while.
What I really want to do is get out of the United States. I want to get away from the girl who, during my psychology lecture, unabashedly declared that she didn't think foreigners should be allowed to speak other languages in this country because it bothers her that she can't tell what they're saying. I want to get away from the obese man in the Hummer who pulled out in front of me this morning, and flipped me off when I honked my horn. I want to get away from the boy on the first floor of my dorm who told me I would go to Hell when I die because I don't think the Grand Canyon is the result of the Deluge, 6,000 years ago. I want to go to a country where the media doesn't worship the breast-less corpse of Paris Hilton, and where cigarettes are cheap and say in big letters LES CIGARETTES SONT MAUVAISES.
I want to be a foreigner again! Je veux être un expatrié!
That'll probably never happen. I've been waiting for something my entire life, and it never seems to come--perhaps if I knew what it was, if I could mentally pinpoint exactly where all my half-efforts and efforts and yearnings are heading to--
Read Russian lit. Art is dead. Over And Out.