I use, too many commas, in my writing.
Sometimes I like to lie about my age…
I’m 22.
- Socialism: You have 2 cows and you give one to your neighbour.
- Communism: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and gives you some milk.
- Fascism: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and sells you some milk.
- Nazism: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and shoots you.
- Bureaucratism: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both, shoots one, milks the other and throws the milk away..
- Traditional Capitalism: You have 2 cows. You sell one and buy a bull. You herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.
- An American Corporation: You have 2 cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow dropped dead.
- A French Corporation: You have 2 cows. You go on strike because you want three cows.
- Japanese Corporation: You have 2 cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called Cowkimon and market them Worldwide.
- An Italian Corporation: You have 2 cows, but you don't know where they are. You break for lunch.
- A Swiss Corporation: You have 5000 cows. None of which belong to you. You charge others for storing them.
- Chinese Corporation: You have 2 cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.
- An Iraqi Corporation: Everyone thinks you have lots of cows. You tell them that you have none. No one believes you and they bomb your arse. You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.......
- Counter Culture: 'Wow, dig it, like there's these 2 cows, man, grazing in the hemp field. You gotta have some of this milk!'
- Surrealism: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.
- Fatalist: You have 2 doomed cows...
- A West-Country Corporation: You have 2 cows. That one on the left is kinda cute.
- A Brazilian Corporation: You have 2 cows. You pay taxes for 6 cows. You have to sell one cow in order to pay the taxes. Your remaining cow gets sick and dies while waiting for availability in the public vet hospital.
- A Portuguese Corporation: You have 2 cows. You don't do anything. You then complain about lack of cattle and blame the government.
❝
These poems, these poems,
these poems, she said, are poems
with no love in them. These are the poems of a man
who would leave his wife and child because
they made noise in his study. These are the poems
of a man who would murder his mother to claim
the inheritance. These are the poems of a man
like Plato, she said, meaning something I did not
comprehend but which nevertheless
offended me. These are the poems of a man
who would rather sleep with himself than with women,
she said. These are the poems of a man
with eyes like a drawknife, with hands like a pickpocket’s
hands, woven of water and logic
and hunger, with no strand of love in them. These
poems are as heartless as birdsong, as unmeant
as elm leaves, which if they love love only
the wide blue sky and the air and the idea
of elm leaves. Self-love is an ending, she said,
and not a beginning. Love means love
of the thing sung, not of the song or the singing.
These poems, she said….
You are, he said,
beautiful.
That is not love, she said rightly.
these poems, she said, are poems
with no love in them. These are the poems of a man
who would leave his wife and child because
they made noise in his study. These are the poems
of a man who would murder his mother to claim
the inheritance. These are the poems of a man
like Plato, she said, meaning something I did not
comprehend but which nevertheless
offended me. These are the poems of a man
who would rather sleep with himself than with women,
she said. These are the poems of a man
with eyes like a drawknife, with hands like a pickpocket’s
hands, woven of water and logic
and hunger, with no strand of love in them. These
poems are as heartless as birdsong, as unmeant
as elm leaves, which if they love love only
the wide blue sky and the air and the idea
of elm leaves. Self-love is an ending, she said,
and not a beginning. Love means love
of the thing sung, not of the song or the singing.
These poems, she said….
You are, he said,
beautiful.
That is not love, she said rightly.
— Robert Bringhurst
