In the midst of all this pageantry, I’m sitting here wondering why parents send their children to work in the Congress, despite their presumptive fragility. To put it another way, I wonder why parents send their fresh, young adults to work in the Congress, despite their presumptive hotness. And I wonder why children turn into fresh, hot, young adults before they stop being children, since children and sex don’t mix. And I wonder why fresh, hot, young adults remain children, since being children must strongly conflict with their fresh, hot, young-adult sexuality. If it’s not too crude to say, I don’t understand the cosmic or divine purpose of having so many sixteen- and seventeen-year-old children running around ovulating or loaded with spunk, and horny, as if they’re already supposed to be producing the next generation, unless perhaps they are already supposed to be producing the next generation. Things would make a lot more sense if that were the case.

I’ll stipulate, for the sake of discussion, that these pages really are just boys and girls, fragile children in need of the protection of the laws. I’ll stipulate that pages are children, despite what every male reader of my comment must suspect is a male page’s typical daily routine: He wakes up in the morning and spends his first five minutes desperately waiting for his “morning wood” to subside, so he can pee. He gets in the shower, spends a few minutes waking up under the hot water, then gets busy washing up. The slick suds feel really good on his hairy “junk,” so he str0kes himself out to his full seven inches, gets the rhythm, and goes at it. When he’s finished and he’s caught his breath, he pushes the evidence to the drain with his foot and watches it slide down, glob by sticky glob. He gets out, dries off, shaves, then smears deodorant on his hairy armpits, hoping to reduce his manly stink, which has become such a problem lately, despite the established fact that he’s just a child. All day he dreams about sex, while he does whatever work it is that pages do. He goes home and stays up till 1:00 a.m. playing a PC game over the internet. Then he goes to bed, but before he falls asleep, he drowsily busts out another one. There’s no drain handy this time, just Kleenex and a trash can.

Never mind that his grubby, no-nonsense, bust-another-one sexuality is at its peak. He’s a child; he’ll get PTSD if a hairy, fat dude IMs an impure thought to him. Fine, I won’t argue, but then I will insist that parents keep their precious children at home, so that the Congress can conduct the nation’s legislation without the distraction these children inexplicably pose.

Kralizec on October 3, 2006 at 9:28 PM

I see you are capable of making a valid point without filthy language and disgusting sexual visualizations. Had you taken this route initially I wouldn’t have bothered to poke a barb at you. From the outset I was offended by your language, not your opinion. So that I might return to civility as well, I withdraw my last antagonistic remark.

* My point isn’t just valid; it’s true.
* I post often enough that my rhetorical range can’t actually be in doubt.
* Your barb is irrelevant; I care about issues, theory, politics, and written style. My vulgarities were thoughtfully chosen and carefully calibrated to make my point.
* Given that I drew critical comment from just one person, I’m quite pleased with my choices and calibrations.
* I don’t really know what it means to “withdraw” a remark or why your personal antagonism matters.

Kralizec on October 4, 2006 at 4:48 PM