...on In Vino Veritas
It's true you know. "In wine, there is truth."
Not that the scheme to blow the fuck out of the rest of the Solar System until Earth reigns supreme is correct. Though that is a good plan and I endorse it. Or the Saturday Night Live sketch/sitcom "Life On A Comet" which ends every week with everything blowing up. Though I would watch that show.
By truth, I mean character.
On Tuesday I learned something I already knew. S. is a poet.
Tonight I learned something I didn't know. R. is an assclown.
Put two beers into someone and it's Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Mainline Everclear into other people and they just become more of who they are.
I like to think I belong in the second category. At least that's what people tell me. That and "You should write." which I find quite painfull because they remind me I'm squandering a gift. Not a gift you will see here dear readers. There's no editing or polishing and I'm years out of practice. But a gift I had once and received much praise for until I chucked that life.
Where was I? Oh yes. London.
It seems obligatory to make a London mention on this tragic day. But that's all I will do. A mention. Not even a rant on how this wouldn't have happened if the Commander-In-Chimp hadn't held the reins of power.
Because this morning I watched the BBC. I saw the interviews on the street. And I was humbled.
"Oh, yes. Quite unpleasant. The fellows behind this deserve a sound thrashing. Still, London has seen much worse. Jerry tried to give us what for and we are still here. Pip, pip. Cheerio."
Except real people, saying real things. After stumbling out of dark smoke-filled holes in the earth, tunnels splattered with the blood of their fellow commuters. Never knowing if they would see the light of day or if their lives would be snuffed out because someone who turns into an asshole after two beers wanted to feel big.
Utterly calm, cool and collected. Utterly bad ass. Londoners put New Yorkers to shame.
We are all Berliners. But Londoners are a cut above the rest of us.
Not that the scheme to blow the fuck out of the rest of the Solar System until Earth reigns supreme is correct. Though that is a good plan and I endorse it. Or the Saturday Night Live sketch/sitcom "Life On A Comet" which ends every week with everything blowing up. Though I would watch that show.
By truth, I mean character.
On Tuesday I learned something I already knew. S. is a poet.
Tonight I learned something I didn't know. R. is an assclown.
Put two beers into someone and it's Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Mainline Everclear into other people and they just become more of who they are.
I like to think I belong in the second category. At least that's what people tell me. That and "You should write." which I find quite painfull because they remind me I'm squandering a gift. Not a gift you will see here dear readers. There's no editing or polishing and I'm years out of practice. But a gift I had once and received much praise for until I chucked that life.
Where was I? Oh yes. London.
It seems obligatory to make a London mention on this tragic day. But that's all I will do. A mention. Not even a rant on how this wouldn't have happened if the Commander-In-Chimp hadn't held the reins of power.
Because this morning I watched the BBC. I saw the interviews on the street. And I was humbled.
"Oh, yes. Quite unpleasant. The fellows behind this deserve a sound thrashing. Still, London has seen much worse. Jerry tried to give us what for and we are still here. Pip, pip. Cheerio."
Except real people, saying real things. After stumbling out of dark smoke-filled holes in the earth, tunnels splattered with the blood of their fellow commuters. Never knowing if they would see the light of day or if their lives would be snuffed out because someone who turns into an asshole after two beers wanted to feel big.
Utterly calm, cool and collected. Utterly bad ass. Londoners put New Yorkers to shame.
We are all Berliners. But Londoners are a cut above the rest of us.
posted by ElGrande at 7/07/2005 11:36:00 PM
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