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Journal of No. 118

February 23rd, 2010

These men are nihilists; there's nothing to be afraid of. @ 08:52 am

Had a curious conversation during my morning commute. It was hard not to notice the guy behind me in the turn lane... it looked like Shaft on a motorcycle. I like your style, Dude.

After the turn, he catches up to me at the next red light and pulls up alongside my driver side. I roll down the window and he asks, "How can you not believe in nothing?"

The number of negatives had me feeling a bit out of my element, so I go, "What?" It was really more of a reflex action. I didn't say "what?" -- I went "What?"

He repeats his question, in the parlance of our times. And my brain catches up with reality. My Lebowskifest bumpersticker reads, "We believe in nothing."

The light is now green, so I despair of being able to quickly explain that it's a cinematic allusion, something of a joke, and yet not entirely a lie when viewed from a certain skewed direction. This is a very complicated case. You know, a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-yous. I settle for, "I just don't believe in what I can't believe."

Also, my rug was stolen.
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Date:February 26th, 2010 09:08 pm (UTC)
Someone was out of their element.

Journal of No. 118