The  Cry's of a disant Planet


  On some remote, and disttant planet (upone which we look quite
  without interest -- other than the most detached, and only slightly
  concerned curiosity).

  At any rate,

  On said planet (which we may arbitrarily designate by the letter "E"),
  the inhabitants seem distracted and concerned about the state and well-
  being of their KINGS.

  These kings,

  may be elected,
  or may be elevated to an office of respect by worship.

  The worship may be as of a politcal, or a sports-wise, or a TV-wise,
  nature.

  Yet, these poor, desparate (and often quite desolate and lonely) creatures
  seem to voraciously want to give their very lives for their heroes.

  Names like Jesus (or at least like Robertson,  Grantt, and Bakker),

  Names like Owens (or at least like

  Names like Lincoln (or at least like Kennedy, Limbaugh, and Nixon),


  Who we admire is a myth.

  What we admire is slime.  WE are the future, but we can not seem to
  garner the self-esteem necessary to have confidence in the real
  foundation of our society:

  US.


  Not them, not the movie stars (who need stunt men),

            not the politicians (who need PAC money),

            not the wanta-bees (who need hourly-employees),

  not the JACUZZI-owning, BMW-owning, STOCK-option-owing ones,

  just us.  Plumbers, and compter-hackers, and waitresses

  all just making it day-to-day to that THEY can have the good life.

  Never realizing that to just have a family, and a life, and a home

  is all that we ALL (even them) really ever wanted.

  94/06/04-1:00am (or so).


Back to the PHILO page

To the INDEX ! 

Back to the m-a-c home page.

Back to the HOME page