People lie, lots of times every single day. We rationalize it, put them in little categories to make them seem justifiable. There’s no such thing as white lies or beige lies. They don’t come in colors, they just come in bunches, one after the other, mostly about things that didn’t need to be lied about.
In many, many situations it’s just easier to lie than to tell the truth. I seem to excel in bearing false witness, so one day I counted.
It doesn’t make sense but I like to read about food and cooking (especially since sports no longer exist). The senselessness comes in because I don’t enjoy eating, that is, I don’t go on food adventures.
Some people will eat anything. Fuck that.
The people you share the planet with are sheep. Non-thinking, quick-to-panic, I-did-it-because-they-did-it, wool-less sheep. This weekend the whole herd descended on the unsuspecting super-market, like a swarm of locusts attacking a field of corn. There’s no logic to what they bought. They shopped like the city was leveled, as if the mother of all earthquakes shook the earth and they drooled and they had the red eyes of rabid wolves, ironic since sheep are ascared of wolves.
It appears that a large contingent among was just waiting for the chance to go post-nuclear.