And it really didn't seem that long ago.  Sitting in front of Holden [Hall], tripping so hard I'm putting out my ciggarrettes with my fingertips and not even really realizing that I'm doing it...ahhh, grim memories.  It was a learning experience.  Not my fault at all.

Perhaps it had something to do with the conservative/republican/sado/narcissistic/Gingrich revolution.  I wans't exactly against it, but there was this infallible sense in the air that something was going to happen.  And whatever was bound to transpire would be heavy...no doubt about that.

So, maybe it was a reaction.  How else was I to deal with orange clad monsters like Tim McVeigh parade in front of me, day after day.  Insane lies from all sides.  Waco?  David Koresh?  Don't even think about it.  The sheer paranoia of the time makes one feel targeted.  And baby, Nobody's got your back.

Was it the government?  Better not to think about it.  Those rabid rotweilers should snooze on.  The government can make you disappear.  Randy weaver can tell you so.  Remember Ruby Ridge?

What am I here for, anyway?

Education.  Hmmm.  I learned to ask questions, and I've been doubting everything since.  It doesn't take much to learn the simple rules we all live by:

1)  Don't Rock The Boat

2)  Walk on the Right Side of the Sidewalk

3)  Don't Fuck with the Ducks

I'd read in the school paper that an undergrad had done poorly for himself.  He'd captured a mallard and de-feathered it.  Definitely a bad idea.  He'd been tossed out.  They didn't even fuck around with a warning.  Just gone.  Don't fuck with the ducks indeed.

So what do you do when the paranoid demons close in and you feel as though you've learned nothing?