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Monday, March 7, 2011

47. Dialectics

For a moment I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but no. There on a bench near the post office were my old friends Lefty and Lucky, the conjoined twin, arguing as usual. C.W. usually doesn’t assume multiple shapes but he claims these two only account for one. I guess maybe he’s right.


As I neared them, I could catch the drift of their conversation.

“It has to be ‘Cat’s in the Cradle.’”

“Well then, I’m going to say ‘Having my Baby.’”

“No, Jerkoff, that’s unfair.”

“Why is that unfair, Dickhead?”

“That’s the worst song ever written, everyone knows that. It’s unfair.”

They stopped when they saw me. “What’s shakin’, Slick?” Lefty said.

“Not much,” I said. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“We’re playing a game our friend Perry Carr taught us.” Lucky said. “It’s called ‘Name a song that you would rather blow your brains out than ever have to listen to again.”

“Some call it ‘Popular Dialectics,’” Lefty said. “You can also play a version of it called ‘The ‘Swarmiest TV evangelist’ on earth.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said.

“But you can’t say Joel Olsteen,” Lucky interjected before I could say anything.

“Why?”

“Who could compete with him?” Lefty said.

“I see your point. So is this all you do all day?”

“What do you do all day?’ Lucky said. He sounded offended.

“Oh I write, paint, sculpt, pick the banjo, go for walks, you know.”

“What a douchebag,” Lefty said, Turning to Lucky. “Okay, here’s another: The Invasion of Iraq.”

“No, Crap For Brains. It was selling guns to the Ayatollah Khomeini to fund the illegal war in Nicaragua.”

“Dumbass, that wasn’t bad policy. It was just treason.”

“Let me guess,” I interrupted. “’Name the worst policy decision of the modern era.’”

“Listen to Einstein here,” Lefty said. “Maybe he ain’t so stupid, after all.

“He probably is, but why don’t you ask him for his entry?” Lucky said.

“Yeah, Fart Blossom,” Lefty said, turning to me. “What’s your opinion?”

I ignored the question. “C.W.,” I said. “When did you get interested in politics?”

“We’re not,” Lucky said. “We just get amused when your species starts wars without any plans for paying for them.”

“Or when you support assholes in foreign countries so you can maintain fuel for your beloved internal combustion engines,” Lefty chimed in.

“Hey,” Lucky said, “Let’s name the stupidest piece of equipment in the galaxy.”

“Cut it out you guys,” I said. Then, catching myself, “C.W.”

“You don’t want me to have any fun while I’m here, do you?” Lucky—C.W.—said.

“I thought you were just supposed to be analyzing us.”

Lefty looked at Lucky who just shrugged. “Why don’t you go for a walk?” he said, looking back at me.

Policy or treason, there was
just a faint smell of sulpher
about the whole matter - Lucky
I wandered off, hurt. For some reason, I thought of the Lee Greenwood song “God Bless the USA.” It was pushed out by “Boot-Scootin’ Boogie.” Then, “If I Were a Carpenter.” Oh, lord!

As for Lefty and Lucky, when I rounded the corner I could hear them start back up.

“A man hawking and spitting on the sidewalk,” Lefty said.

“No,” Lucky said. “It’s a woman wearing a short skirt and cowboy boots.”

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