The strange things you find when you click on random youtube links. I either have too much time on my hands, or not enough. I can never tell which. It seems like they both have the same outcome – wondering how the hell I wound up doing what I’m doing right now, and whether there isn’t something more productive I should be doing. But nah. This is just as productive as anything. What would I be producing in my free-time, anyhow? CO2?
So I have a question in my head. If someone dropped a bomb on your house, would you think it was your fault for having put your house there? You don’t wind up blown to bits because you wanted to be blown to bits, it just happens sometimes. If someone wants to drop a bomb, and that bomb just happens to track a path to your house, that’s life. It’s no one’s fault. I mean, except the guy who wanted to drop a bomb on something. He’s an asshole.
If your dog fell into a sinkhole while you were out walking him, would you blame your dog? I know some people who would. They’re assholes. Even so, they’d probably do whatever it takes to save their poor little puppy. What if it’s someone else’s dog? It gets a little blurrier. Maybe some people would dive right in, but I think most would pull out their phones and shoot a video, unless they know the dog’s owner. What if your dog has a bad habit of falling into sinkholes? Would you eventually give up and say, “I guess it’s just meant to be…” ?I wouldn’t. I’d call it an endearing quirk. I had an english springer spaniel when I was a kid who had a bad habit of running into traffic after jumping our stockade fence. She was like a excited rabbit in dog-form. I’d look outside and either see her jumping that stupid fence, or notice she wasn’t in the yard, and I’d chase her all over the neighborhood. The neighbors called the cops on me once because I was cutting through their yard trying to sneak up on her. They were assholes. So were the cops. I once chased her so far from my house that I had to call my parents to come pick us up. I must have been out for three or four hours at least. I’m sure you can guess how this story might end, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. She just really liked running through a moving obstacle course. I can’t blame her – chasing her was one of the highlights of my pre-teen years. One of the few things I can actually remember clearly. Unlike my point in writing this. It just happened, okay? Looking at this spiel now, it’s like techmology – what is it all about? Who knows? I just felt like writing something.