On the Road to Utopia

On the day I was born, I was put on a dusty road. People passed me by in a steady stream, I asked what they where doing.

– I’m writing a letter to parliament.

– Why?

– Because… dey took er jobs!

– Who?

– Dem dam policeticians. It’s like dem just woke up an smelled de roses.

– What roses?

– Sa metaphor. Ashley, I should make em dat analogy instead. Imagine dem monkeys buildin a pile o rubble, denn dis guy say he know ta fix’em pile n stars workin n all and makem piles look nice n shiny, but is all stupid coz de pile is in a swamp. Dats politics!

I stood up and started walking with the others. I wasn’t gonna go the fool’s errands and become a politician. I was gonna do something useful with my life. I didn’t have any concepts of love, gender, sex, children but pheromones tickling my nose turned my head to a beautiful piece of ass, with whom I had a baby. I think God gave us the baby. I told the baby to learn to walk.

– Why?

– So you can walk with us.

– Where are you going?

– I don’t know, but I’m gonna build bicycles on the way so we can get there faster.

– Ok.

My child grew up to be a professor of nutrition. One day it asked me what I was eating.

– It’s a banana.

– You know you are what you eat?

– I’m a banana?

– Part of the banana will become part of you. Parts of the banana will even become part of your actions as it fuels your motions through space.

– So, my walking is a banana?

– Yes, and your being is a banana. And your poo is the remains of a banana.

– That makes my poo the remains of my being.

– I just saying you don’t know what you’re made of, you don’t know what the banana is made of and you still turn the banana into you.

– You’re talks…. nuts!

– You’re a soulless, complex composite of 100 000 000 000 000 000 000s of atoms.

– You think too much. Stop thinking, get a hair-cut and a real job.

– You don’t even know what you’re made of, you don’t understand where I came from and you have no idea of where this path we’re all walking on is taking us. Maybe you should stop working and start questioning.

– Look, mister-know-it-all, where would we be if everybody just stopped?

– Here?

The Winner of the Rat Race will not be announced in the next blog post.

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