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"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
A whole legacy of people driven insane by the modern world, who sought escape from the madding crowd only to find themselves devoured in the jaws of the tiger of their own fragmented minds. People lost in a haze of things they don't understand, people who seem like they're plunging through never-ending tunnels, always grasping at some almost-there ending point that they can never quite get to, having forgotten what they wanted in the first place. The more they go towards it the farther away it gets. It can be the easiest or hardest thing in the world.
Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. Goddamn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy s**t we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
Dear Diary, I am writing in your bullshit pages because my shrink is crazier then I am. He thinks you're therapy. He figures if two babies can hammer me into a Psycho ward, what will I do with this ? He is so stupid. He's so stupid that he thinks he pulled me through the breakdown when it was Christy. Always. Only Chis. I was looking through his postcards. Paintings were his obsession. He used art as another way to love me, to help me. To keep us always together.
Maybe we should talk about art. Tito's got real talent, don't you think? You know something? I saw a picture just like this once, in a museum. Only it wasn't a black man, it was a jewish man. And instead of the big lips he had a really big nose, like a rat's nose. But he wasn't just one particular jewish man. This was a drawing of all jews. And these drawings were put in the newspapers by the most famous gang in history. You think you know all about gangs? You're amateurs. This gang will put you all to shame. And they started out poor and angry and everybody looked down on them. Until one man decided to give them some pride, an identity... and somebody to blame. You take over neighborhoods? That's nothing compared to them. They took over countries. You want to know how? They just wiped out everybody else. Yeah, they wiped out everybody they didn't like and everybody they blamed for their life being hard. And one of the ways they did it was by doing this: see, they print pictures like this in the newspapers, jewish people with big, long noses... blacks with big, fat lips. They'd also published scientific evidence that proved that jews and blacks were the lowest form of human species. Jews and blacks were more like animals. And because they were just like animals it didn't matter if they lived or died. In fact, life would be a whole lot better if they were all dead. That's how a holocaust happens. And that's what you all think of each other.
Reality is perception. Perceptions change. Reality is fluid. So if by "reality" you mean reliable, tangible objects and immutable events, then there is no such thing.
"Oleander will kill you quickly. Azaleas, ingested, take a few hours. Vomiting, paralysis, seizures, coma, death. Then there's savin, henbane, foxglove, jimsonweed...all here in Pico Mundo."
"And we call her Mother Nature."
"There's nothing fatherly about time and what it does to us, either," Ozzie said.
We do not always gain strength and courage from adversity; sometimes we are destroyed by it. We do not always experience an adrenaline surge and superhuman powers in times of crisis, either, but it happens often enough to have become a part of our folklore.
There are more, I do not have access to all of them at the moment.
Signature
"The ravens of night have flown forth to summon Loki who hath set
Valhalla aflame with the searing trident of the Inferno. The twilight is done. A glow of new light is borne out of the night and Lucifer is risen."
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