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Voices of Unreason By: Richard Davidson on 10/22/2001; 9:20 PM Voices of unreason Barking in my head Every passing season Violence slowly bred "Hey, you're listening to the Dumb and Dumber morning show here on KEEEEEEEYX! I'm Dumb...." "and I'm Dumber!" "We'll be playing all the hits of the moment, sometime by the afternoon, but first we got a little game..." (Crude sounds) "...Insult the dumb guy!" "That's right, folks, there's people out there even dumber than us, and we're gonna call 'em up, get 'em on the phone, and find out just how dumb they are!" Silence of confusion Mounting in my brain Every bright illusion Dissolving in the rain (song: The Fire From Within) It was late one night and he couldn't find a friend, It was kinda dim and the silence wouldn't end It was gettin' cold, and he didn't have another coat He'd been kinda shy since he was a little kid He'd been gettin' high, oh the damage that he did He was feelin' sick, and his daddy was waitin' at home He had no reason To understand at all And he was on fire The fire from within He went to his room, bein' quiet as he could It was like a tomb, made of stone and dirt and wood And he sat on the bed, logged onto the internet Worlds he'd never seen, some he'd never leave behind Were so nice and clean, for his dirty little mind And he knew this world just hadn't seen anything yet He had no reason To understand at all And he was on fire The fire from within And he knew He didn't have too long to live Better start burnin' Well some years went by, and his daddy shook his head At that useless boy, sittin' useless on the bed But what he didn't know, was Johnny was learnin' some things He'd been tradin' shares, makin' money that he blew And he took some dares, as he hacked his way on through And he thought of a dream, and then he gave it wings He had a reason To understand it all And he was on fire The fire from within I turned off my radio and wept. Surely this world had more to offer than these insane jibberings offered by contemptous weasels, and my shoulders heaved uncontrollably. The phone rang. I tried to ignore it, but my ankles were shaking like loose barnacles, leaving trails of despair across my kitchen floor. It was my other self. "Hello?" "Yes, hi, it's me again." "Damn." "Don't worry, I won't be long." "Well, what is it?" "Do they understand how truly deep you are?" "Not in a million years." "Well, why would they care?" He had me on that one. I had decided not to answer, but found myself saying, "It's not as easy as you think." "I never said it was easy." "Good bye." "Good bye." Voices of unreason Ringing through the fog Every act of treason Every itchy dog The phone rang again. "I can't believe you put that part about the itchy dog in there, man." I hung up. I got to thinking about that kid in the song. He was so desperate, so utterly lonely, and the song didn't even tell you he had a dog! I turned the radio on, and those Dumb guys were still talking about poop, or whatever, and I was flipping through the dial, and I heard Dylan sing/say, "If dogs run free, then why can't we?" over and over while some cool jazz played in the background. So there WAS hope after all! I knew it had to be something like that, and besides, it was time for the news. "There was a six car pile-up on Interstate 22 this morning, but luckily only two of the victims were Americans," came the startling voice out of my akward TV. "Excuse me?" I asked the fluttering newscaster from a comfortable spot in my living room. "Ahem," he cleared his voice, "in Spain, more riots. Here in America, there are many fruits and vegetables to choose from." Now, I completely didn't understand that part, and assumed I had only been half-listening, or possibly channeling one of the Osmonds. Whatever the case, I amused myself by flinging little pieces of cheese at the TV, because the political segment was coming up next, and I'm not right in the head anyway. But anyway, here's this world famous newscaster, sending it over to a couple of guys who can rarely find matching socks, and now I'm the bad guy? "Bob, it's obvious the Senator is intent on destroying civilization as we know it, and if you don't agree, you're the devil." "Frankly, Frank, I resent that implication, and have never been caught taking any bribes." "Bob, settle down, all I'm saying is I want an America where my kids can grow up to be raving lunatics like us!" "Frank, I don't appreciate you eating Franks on the set; you're getting ketchup all over everything, for God's sake, and besides, my wife's meaner than a seven month old cobra." "Well, I think anyone can appreciate that, Blob, but my point is well taken. I predicted Senator Longstocking would give in to childish behavior, and now look at her." "First of all, Dimuendo, my name is NOT Blob, and I'm proud to have voted for the diminuitive senator. Her whole approach has been fresh, and honest." "Honest? Boob, I oughtta kick the crap outta you right here on the set of this overrated vile excuse for a news show. The senator won't give us any solid answers regarding her parents, and where she comes from. For all we know, she isn't even a US Citizen!" "Listen, Frankenstein, first of all, I've got PIMPLES that are worth more to society than you, and second of all, your momma. That being said, I have to point out on the senator's flawless record on animal rights, financial responsibility by wearing the same clothes every day, not to mention those cute pigtails." "Who let the dogs out? Who? Who? Who? Who?" "That's a very bizarre response, ah, Frank, I'm not sure what you're trying to say..." That's twice as much useful information as they had last night, so I figured I was doing just fine. I decided it was time to stop all this madness, and go to the store, to buy milk. I was getting hungry. (Author's note: I just typed in the subject "Voices of Unreason," and started typing, with no idea what I was going to type. It took me about an hour and a half, and the song up above, "The Fire From Within" is an actual song, that I wrote right here on this website. I even stopped to strum it on the guitar. I don't know if anyone cares about any of that, but if you read this far, thanks. If the whole thing seems rather meaningless, sorry for wasting your time.) (Second Author's Note: This never posted, so I thought I'd try again. In my mind, it is an essay.)
RE: Voices of Unreason By: Mark Morgan on 2/2/2001; 5:23 PM My sincerest apologies, Richard; I completely forgot about the original. I'll publish this immediately, and if you'll give me permission I'll delete the other one. Again, I can only apologize.
RE: Voices of Unreason By: Richard Davidson on 2/2/2001; 5:27 PM You have my permission, and no need to apologize. I thought maybe you didn't like me plagarizing the site's name! Woo hoo!
RE: Voices of Unreason By: Mark Morgan on 2/2/2001; 7:04 PM Gratitudes, sir. I should probably try to clear up what seems to be a common misconception. Posting the piece mostly automatically makes it available to everyone, members or casual visitors. It goes out (after a brief delay) in the mailing list, and is available immediately in the discussion group and newsgroup. What the publishing process does is index it, put it on the home page, and provide a simplified view for reading. That's an important process--especially the indexing--but your piece is immediately available for view. The beauty of Conversant is that I've managed to get that down to two steps. The home page is the second step; it's too complex and requires too much human insight to automate, really.
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