First Batch, Ladies and Gentlemen... a Ballad for the Blind

So, this is to be my first entry... interesting.

I write because I love to do it. The simple act of puting my thoughts into binary form is a relaxing alternative to just babbling on and on for no reason.

I am often ensensed with the way people behave. It may be a result of watching Discovery Channel instead of playing sports when I was younger, but I tend to view things on a very simply crude, scientific basis. This has lead me to view the activities and social patterns of our race from the standpoint of the casual biologist. Let me explain further...

For example, I was at the local Seminole Casino attending a friend's bachelor party. Once all of the new wore off of the experience of staring at Rock 'n' Roll "Artifacts" of dubious authenticity, I began feeling drained and sad.

Mr. Guy in 'Dollar Slots and Mental Rot'

All around me, I saw the numerous reasons I always feel let down by our species. Pathetic, obviously penniless retirees stuffing dollars they don't have into machines with drastically diminishing returns. 40-something swingers in full Stetson drenched fury, pretending to be 20 years younger. The haggard remains of Generation X's infantry, fighting for purchase against their own inner whispers of acknowledged retreat.

And, the Show Stopper, folks! Those of my generation following in those same footsteps. Anxiously mingling in with obvious examples of their own pitiful future, carving out a niche all their own in the cespool of stupidity.

A Quick Tutorial of the Alcohol Equation

Fig. I - Expensive, Poisonous, and

Extremely Flammable... let's drink it!

I guess this is where I mention that I don't drink. I think drinking is just another stupid habit that humans continue for reason. Well, that isn't entirely correct. There IS a reason for it. And that reason is no more noble than the typical excuse for not wanting to accept responsibility for one's own actions.

Drinking = Awkward Social Situation + Excuse to Act Naturally / Risk of Injury, Death, DUI + Shameful Lowering of Standards

For most it's an acceptable excuse. This decision can be expressed as:

Ease of Social Strain > or = Loss of Rational, Coherent Thought

Drinkers will not like the way this is put, but screw 'em. Just go grab a cold one and wash it away, tool. None left in the icebox? Well, better head to the store...

Back to the Story....

So there I sat, at the center bar area where the bouncers wear black sport jackets and check wrists for a living. All of my friends are either drunk or drinking to get there. I am drinking watered down Coke that, for some reason, is served to look like an alcoholic beverage. I guess this is done to protect one's dignity.

"No need to make the strange guy who won't drink any more of a loser than he already is," the gross orange waitress confides to the greasy bartender, "Let's at least do him the favor of making this whole thing not look as bad as it is. Give him the brandy glass"

As everyone was scheming the best possible way to get the Bachelor loaded, I became increasingly interested by an event going down at the bar. Not 20 feet away, a classic "hook up" was in full swing. As most of my sexual encounters in the past involved befriending the female in question for at least a month or two before approaching the point of physical interaction, it felt surreal to see that, in fatc, women could be had it such a sloppy a manner. Ahhh, the wonders of Alcohol.

To my sober mind, the whole affair struck a shocking resemblance to a Snake holding it's prey in trance before the kill. The female in question was physically hammered and her eyes were totally glued to her predator. The male's eyes were sharply erratic, taking in every possible view of his prey. His body was perched over the bar, leaning closer to her by the second. As I watched they slowly moved closer, eventually able to whisper in each others' ears.

For some reason, the whole thing just did me in. I was wracked with this feeling of profound sadness. Sad for him, sad for her, sad for them, sad for all of us. When they were born they had no such concept of this strange ritual, and yet through social pattern and pressure they were force-fit into the mold they now occupied. They left together, arm it arm, the male steadying her as she struggled to complete the task of walking in heels with only a fraction of her mental capacity.

Visiting a bar is like walking into a Jonestown re-enactor's show where the Kool-Aid is only slightly lethal.

So, shortly after, my friend the Bachelor puked all over the luxurious center bar and those lovely folks with the nice black jackets made sure we got to the main floor area quickly and efficiently.

Conclusion

Humans are animals. The most folks that have hope for our race can do is to try to find other like minded individuals and try to preserve a civilized way of living... I would like to see my kids grow up to be a better humans than I am.