Perspicacity

“Whoa children”, sayeth the author of perspicacity. “You may choose to be one of three. A slave, a whore or a rebel. Whichever you choose will make you pious amongst your kind, but a villain to the other two.” “Be a slave. A safe, secure little coward whom does as they are told so as not to disrupt the dispatching of their rations. So as not to feel the sting of your master’s stick. Choose one of the other two and you shall be accosted as an oppressor, for by a slave’s mentality, if you are not a slave, you are the oppressor.” “Be a whore. Like a slave, only you are not bound by your master’s commands. You are in wedlock to the cashier. You are nothing more than a vaginal pit for the merchants of the world to climax in, and you take it unto yourself willingly, like a dog to its own vomit.” “Or be a rebel. A mess of theoretical chaos with no solid foundation. You spit at the other two, making yourself an enemy to all, wherefore no peace, nor unity, nor love nor compassion can be found in you. You live not to challenge for betterment, but to basque in the vanity of your delusion, chasing an ****** of “I told you so”. “ “Oh great author of perspicacity!” sayeth the children. “To which of these are you sworn to?” “I am none of these. I despise you all. You are rotten and sour and I cast you out of my mouth like rancid dog meat. I, am suicide.”