A little Experiment

I'm not sure if this is an experiment or if this has some poetic merit. Feedback would be nice.


After “After Experience has Taught Me…”
Dan Feuerbach

It was revealed to me, in a dream, the romance
I sought with her was a futile fantasy;

He went over to her house last night and
knocked on the door for half an hour.

The decision was final, of her accord, not mine.
The patterns existing for years came to pass.

She wanted him gone, but he wouldn’t leave.
He demanded she speak with him, she cried.

I’ll never know happiness, I’ll never know victory.
Any chance of either is a matter of God’s will, not mine.

She called me at two in the morning, she didn’t
know what to do. I said I’d try.

I’m devoid of any acceptance, my ability to express love
will always be ignored. I’ll only know rejection, agony and sorrow.

When I showed up there was a beer in his hand.
I told him he needed to leave. He told me;

I will never be complete without her, I’ll never know
joy without her, I’ll never leap free from the inevitable.

She was the only women who could love him, this
was total, irrevocable isolation from his destiny.

And you, waste-product, what self do you know?
Crying over words typed on a screen.
What use, what conceivable purpose
could your life be worth?

Democracy, Permits, and Dan

"Think about it. You're going to create an institution dedicated to representing the needs, wants, and hopes of two-hundred and sixty-million people."
-Sean Flowerday

This quote hits the nail on the head for me after a recent experiance.

At one-thirty today I went into an office in a middle school unqualified to work with food and walked out forty-five minutes later legally allowed to disribute food to the citizens of Lincoln.

The concept of a food handler's permit is completely asanine. I'm going to throw that out there right now. I am no more knowledgable about keeping food safe now than when I took the class in the first place, the only difference is now I'm ten dollars poorer.

Food handling is not rocket science, it's food handling. All you need to know is 'don't put your mouth on anything and blow' and you're good to go.

Now the government feels I am a safe risk for working with food because I have a piece of paper.

While I sat through this class I thought about the only motiation for being here: legal retaliation. I don't care, I know how to handle food. However if anyone got sick from our food I would've made a great target for a lawsuit.

As a whole, this permit means less than the paper it's printed on. (Have I gotten that point across yet?)

The class made me think about how many government operations have the same twisted logic. The whole "if you took a class you must know what you're doing" reasoning. Obviously for different positions (ie firefighter, police officer) the requirments are more strick, but what offices require less qualification (DMV Clerk, State Senator, Federal Judge).

After all they were elected by the (uncaring) people, they must be capable of doing a good job. Just because candidate X can spend more money or hit local demographics better is he going to do any better of a job than the guy who just got a food handler's permit?

I'll end on a quote because George Burns said it better than I ever could:

"Too bad the only people who know how to run a country are driving cabs and cutting hair."