There were always babies at the bus station and they were always crying. And these were not mild complaints. I couldnt understand how the least discomfort could take the form of agony. No other creature was so sensitive. The more I thought about it the clearer it became to me that what I was hearing was rage…
The rage of children seemed inexplicable other than as a breach of some deep and innate covenant having to do with how the world should be and wasnt. I understood that their raw exposure to the world was the world.
You dont think this is all a bit fanciful?
I do think.
How would a child know how the world should be?
A child would have to be born so. A sense of justice is common to the world. All mammals certainly. A dog knows perfectly well what is fair and what is not. He didnt learn it. He came with it.
—from Stella Maris by Cormac McCarthy
You're gonna wonder why As you wander on your way The unfairness of the world Will make a body rage
Don't be scared of words Watch out for stones and sticks You won't get blown away When you build your thoughts with bricks
Perpetual injustice Is an insult to the soul Evil is eternal Resistance makes us whole
A thousand paths before us So many ways to live It's a wicked wicked world When we forget how to forgive
The fish wasn't fresh
The server was late
The "hand squeezed juice"
Was frozen concentrate
The peas were canned
It was domestic cheese
The Chardonnay was warm
And they didn’t let it breathe
I’m such a good person. Can’t you see?
The world depends on people like me
To maintain decorum and decency
The movie was dreadful
The plot was stale
The acting was wooden
An absolute fail
The mountains were awful
The snow was cold
It smelled like pine
The rocks were old
I’m such a good person. Can’t you see?
The world depends on people like me
To maintain decorum and decency
The novel was stuffy
A disgrace to the arts
The story was filled
With boring parts
What a hideous house
And don't call me a hater
Somebody oughta kill
The decorator
I’m such a good person. Can’t you see?
The world depends on people like me
To maintain decorum and decency
by Richard W. Bray
Do you think of yourself as an atheist?
God no. Those were the good old days…
For a long time I’ve suspected that we might be simply incapable of imagining the epochal evils of which we stand rightly accused and I thought it at least possible that the structure of reality itself harbors something like the forms of which our sordid history is only a pale reflection.
—from Stella Maris by Cormac McCarthyWhat do you do when evil looks you in the eye?
Some people just start lying and lying
Until their life becomes like a Stairmaster of lies
From which they can never escape
What do you do when evil looks you in the eye?
Some people just look for something beautiful
And try to kill it
What do you do when evil looks you in the eye?
Some people just look for something they think they can control
What do you do when evil looks you in the eye?
Some people just sigh
And try
Not to cause any more pain than they have to
Just to get by
by Richard W. Bray
I wake up in the night
No joy in being right
Shut your eyes
And close your ears
As it tumbles down like tears
The news that burns your soul
The things we can’t control
Uphill all the way
Every minute of the day
Big dreams and little toils
A sunny day, a patch of soil
Way leads on to way
When there’s nothing
More to say
by Richard W. Bray
Tune in for some friendly lies
Amuse me when the village dies
Forever in Eurasia wars
Who knows what we're fighting for?
Existential shit show
Hiding from your shadow
Blindfolds when things get funky
Pin the tail on the monkey
No salvation on the screen
Always washed but never clean
Smash a dream and kill a smile
Add another to the pile
Self-destruction lost its charm
Another dead from needle arm
Paying more and living less
Who's the author of this mess?
by Richard W. Bray
Winkle and Wankle and Wunkle
Got attacked by an angry old skunkle
Wankle and Wunkle and Winkle
We're quite overwhelmed by the stinkle
Wunkle and Winkle and Wankle
Took all of their change to the bankle
Wankle and Winkle and Wunkle
Bought a new house for their uncle
Wunkle and Wankle and Winkle
Have an auto that's purple and pinkle
Winkle and Wunkle and Wankle
Keep plenty of gas in the tankle
Wankle and Winkle and Wunkle
Dribble and pass and slam dunkle
Wunkle and Wankle and Winkle
Roller on skates at the rinkle
Winkle and Wunkle and Wankle
Often smell musty and dankle
by Richard W. Bray
Laughter hope sock in the eye's Blog 