The Devil of Dogma

“It’s so ironic you know.” What? I asked my friend taking my eyes of the skyline in the distance. He was wasted and we were slumped against the wall of the terrace. It was rather cold and windy. Winter was setting in. “People. We live in a world of bigots. I cannot accurately convey the frustration I feel at such incidents.”

“Then you might want to tell me what exactly you’re referring to?”

“Like the other day, this friend of mine put up this post. It was about cruelty to animals. You know how they put a sorry picture of a wounded dog or whatever, and say how inhumane it is to torture or kick them. You know that sort of shit. And the next thing you know she puts up some really appetizing pictures of these pork chops. Like that cute pigling was pampered at the pet spa before landing in her plate.”

“Guess maybe it rids them of the guilt of not doing anything although they care and helps them feel better about themselves?”, I said trying to block out images of cows hung upside down, being dismembered.

“Like even this moral policing you know” he went on “It’s quite ridiculous, wouldn’t you rather look at silhouettes of people kissing in public than watch people defecating in broad daylight during your morning commute?”

“I’d rather have neither, but I understand what you’re saying”

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“And this friend of mine, she practically lives on McDonalds and taunts me that marijuana is someday going to kill me. Junk food and all that commuting, inhaling those poisonous gases coming out of those cars, is a far more effective way of buying a ticket into the other world than marijuana! Smoke will kill her too, just of a different kind.

It’s ironic how they unconsciously feed the monster they set out to destroy. People are quite fucked up like that. All hypocrites. They just have this fucked up habit of trying to appear all righteous and conveniently ignoring the true picture.”

My thoughts stalled and jammed momentarily on what he was saying. And he was right, my friend so haunted by talent as he was swallowed by addiction, my friend, he was right. His outlandish comparisons strangely made sense. And as I saw him inhale the white line of smack of that crumpled foil, with its subsequent crackle, I couldn’t help but smile at the irony, the irony of him bringing up the fucked up habits of others.

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