“James, you document the human condition in your own way, and seem to gravitate to the dark side. Your radical antisocial opinions seem to be expressed largely without anger—perhaps indicating that your writing provides a catharsis. Since you have become a published author, what is the most enraging thing you have seen in your life?”

-Larry

That’s easy, and it was not when those two men came with a brick and a bottle to kill me oldest son in front of me, or when that fat Towson State student decided he was going to protect me from blacks by walking from bar to bar reading the bible and talking White Nationalist smack while he drank beer with his fat girlfriend.

It was last night when I got to work, and has been every night for the past month, as I clock in and look at the cardboard quarter donator sitting on the counter next to the time clock, just below the courtesy window, in the grocery store where I work. I have fought for few things other than my own honor or survival, and one of those was for Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital, for which I gladly got my ass kicked by world class studs on two occasions in 2005 and 2006 [or 7].

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society have placed Joshua’s picture on their donation board. He has been in remission since 2011, which should make him about five years old. Of the 40 quarter slots, which would only net this charity $10, 28 have recently been filled. 13 out of the first 15 were pilfered, causing the courtesy clerks to begin issuing tape to donators so the quarters may be taped into the slots. The dope fiends in the neighborhood [predominantly whites] have ripped the taped quarters out of 23 of the 40 slots, meaning that a total of 43 have been collected, but only 7 quarters remain to help fight blood cancer in children.

The truest and most profound sign that we live in an utterly corrupt and valueless society, suffused in utmost banal evil, is that if I catch one of these dope fiends stealing these quarters and slap the taste out of his mouth, I will be arrested and tried for a crime against society.

Three nights a week, as I punch into work, I look at that beautiful baby’s face, surrounded by the torn and pillaged board—fated to never be filled—and I see the true essence of Civilization; that moral void of acquisitive want that holds billions of souls in thrall to the slithering millions that power the world with their never-ending need.