A macro shot of me holding (gently) a very sluggish and cold housefly between my thumb and forefinger.

Des Informations, des Idées, et des Opinions Suspectes - rarement mises à jour et de qualité douteuse.

Ant Farm

An ant farm

You know, for many years I was never able to shake the feeling that I am nothing more than an ant in a huge ant farm. Do I really have free will or is my every move observed and influenced by some outside force? In addition, am I the only person who has this nagging feeling that society is manipulating me? From elementary school indoctrination into a life of carrying a briefcase to a job to provide a paycheque to support an ungrateful family ... to "environmentalists" lobbying to tax my bbq emissions in the name of saving the polar ice caps; this despite the last two summers being the coldest I've ever experienced ... all the way to the police barely resembling law and order anymore so much as being the societally approved street-gang du jour... it's pretty mind-bending when you think about it.

And then tack on some atheistic tendencies on top of that and it's easy to see why philosophers kill themselves young. Realizing that you have no choice, that you are merely a pawn in someone else's game as well as the realization that there is nothing after this, is a pretty shitty feeling. Despair is the word that comes to mind.

Sometimes when the weight of this realization exerts its full force upon me, I snap a little. Shortly after moving to Peterborough, I received a speeding ticket while on my way to a job interview. It was plainly a speed trap; I had not been living in Peterborough long enough yet to know where they were. The cop, like most sub-intellectual homophobes-with-latent-homosexual-tendencies - was surly. I'm sure I would be too if I had to compensate for my stunted genitalia with my police-issued sidearm.

2 years later, ever the obedient ant, I was driving past the very same spot with a cop behind me, and so doing 10 under the limit (because I figure that drives them nuts) when he pulls out and blows past me! I couldn't believe it! So, I gunned the engine and using my horn and with my lights flashing, I pulled the cop over.

I got out of my car and walked up to the side of his cruiser, leaving the sane little part of me floating above and slightly off to the right in order observe the whole scene and wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into ... and I put my hands on his car door and leaned down and said to him: "So, does the highway traffic act only apply to me?"

Ant Farm

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Maybe read No Big Deal, a story I consider to be the very best thing I ever wrote.