Post Number Four on a World Without Hope

The government is still shutdown.  Shit.  It's stil shut down.

The government is still shutdown. Shit. It’s stil shut down.

Manhattan.  Shit I’m still in Manhattan. I’m here now.  Waiting for the Federal government to give me a mission.  Every minute I stay in my apartment I get weaker and the government shutdown gets stronger.

I’m afraid.  I’m afraid that soon the Federal government shutdown will be permanent.  And if that happens, well, then I’ll have nothing left to live for.

Today I took my usual walk through the neighborhood. (I don’t walk past the barricades.  My power is respected only inside the barricades.) One day, when I have conquered all my enemies inside the barricades I will expand my power outside.

I saw one man writing the words “Hope and Change” on the walls of the buildings that haven’t been burned down by the blood drinkers. I asked him what this hope and change was.  He claimed to have once worked for the President of the United States before the barricades went up and the outside world was closed off.  A time long ago.  A time when the Federal government still watched over us.  Before we became orphans.

You don’t talk to President Obama.  You listen to him.  The man’s enlarged my mind.  He’s a poet warrior in the classic sense.  I mean sometimes I’d say hello and he’ll walk right past you.  He won’t even notice you.  And suddenly he’ll grab you and he’ll say “Do you know I am a Constitutional scholar.  I’m the smartest man in the room.” I’m a little man.  A little man.  He’s a great man.

That man still has hope.  Hope in the Federal government.  The poor deluded man. There is no hope.  We are on our own.  Never again will I get a letter in the mail from the IRS telling me I owe them money.

I killed a man today.  I shot him down in the street. Why?  Why not.  Just to watch him die I guess.  Who will stop me?  No one.  Who’s to say that murder is immoral.  The Federal government used to tell us what was right and what was wrong.

How many people had I already killed? There were those six that I knew about for sure.  Close enough to blow their last breath in my face.

I’ve started keeping mementos of the people I’ve killed.  A watch from one.  False teeth from another.  I cut one person’s head off and use it as a paper weight.

But still I have memories.  They come to me in my dreams.   A time when the sun shone and there were no barricades in the street.  A time when I didn’t have to kill.  I can barely remember those days now since it’s been over a week.

People have started committing suicide.  And not just the usual suspects of musicians, mathematicians and bloggers.

Everybody gets everything they want.  I wanted to repent of my capitalist past and they gave me a shutdown for my sins.

I’m out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable conduct.  All because the Federal government has shut down.

Someday this shutdown’s going to end.  That would be fine with the frightened people behind the barricades.  They aren’t looking for anything more than a way back home to the Federal government.

Someone once wrote, “Hell is the impossibility of reason.”  Well that’s what this place feels like – Hell.  I hate it already and it’s only been a week.  I’m so tired.  I got up at four in the morning to go to the bathroom.

No I don’t have a going problem.  I have a growing problem.  Damn enlarged prostate!

This is Manhattan Infidel.  May the Federal government rise again stronger than ever.


3 Responses

  1. I don’t get it, Infidel. You live in Manhatten. You’ve got Bloomberg to take care of you. Isn’t that enough government for you?

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