Sometimes, on rough days, nothing can make me smile like watching self-declared anarchists, communists, anti-consumerists, anti-globalization activists, and "revolutionaries" sit around Borders until closing time on a Thursday night, sipping multinational coffee and talking about corporation-induced wage slavery. These people wouldn't know irony if it sat them down and read them a story by O. Henry.
Their supposed "impending revolution" ideology is no different than the premillenial dispensationalists that they belittle as opiate-of-the-masses-imbibing sheep, the ones that are actively awaiting the End of Days as they (mis)understand it. And just like those tools, I hope, for their sake, it actually does come soon, because it must be awful being wrong all the time.
I tried really hard to not feel superior to these people, but they made it so difficult.
And that's cool, I guess. Every village needs its idiots, every court needs its jesters, and every party needs its pinatas.
But, for whatever it's worth, I missed you tonight.